••ft 


• 


THE 


PBOSE    TALES 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE, 


SECOND  SERIES. 


NEW  YORK: 
W.    J.    WIDDLETON,    PUBLISHER. 

1878. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1849,  by 
J.  S.  REDFIELD, 

fn  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court,  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 

Copyright,  1876,  by  W.  J.  WIDDLETON. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.   II. 


PAGE 

NARRATIVE  OF  A.  GOXDON  For 13 

NOTE 186 

MISCELLANIES. 

THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROFESSOR  PETHER 1'Jl 

THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ 210 

How  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE 230 

A  PREDICAMENT 241 

MYSTIFICATION 251 

X-ING  A  PARAGRAB 260 

DIDDLING  CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF  THE  EXACT  SCIENCES 267 

THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD 278 

MELLONTA  TAUTA. 288 

Loss  OF  BREATH 302 

THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP 315 

THE  BUSINESS  MAN 3'.'6 

THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN 336 

MAELZEL'S  CHESS  PLAYER 34*5 

POWER  OF  WORDS 371 

THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONUS  AND  UNA 376 

THE  CONVERSATION  OF  EIROS  AND  CHARMION 386 

SHADOW 392 

SILENCE 395 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURE 399 

A  TALE  OF  JERUSALEM 406 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

THE  SPHINX 411 

THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD 416 

NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HEAD 426 

Tnou  ABT  THE  MAN 436 

HOP-FROG 451 

FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE  ;  THE  HOMO-CAMELEOPARD 461 

WHY  THE  LITTTE  FRENCHMAN  WEARS  HIS  HAND  IN  A  SLING 46!» 

BON  BON 475 

SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 493 

KEVIEW  OF  STEPHENS' s  ARABIA  PETR^EA 509 

MAGAZINE  WRITING. — PETER  SNOOK 528 

THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON — A  SATIRE 540 

ASTORIA..,  . .  551 


PREFACE. 


UPON  my  return  to  the  United  States  a  few  months  ago,  after 
the  extraordinary  series  of  adventure  in  the  South  Seas  and 
elsewhere,  of  which  an  account  is  given  in  the  following  pages, 
accident  threw  me  into  the  society  of  several  gentlemen  in  Rich- 
mond, Va.,  who  felt  deep  interest  in  all  matters  relating  to  the 
regions  I  had  visited,  and  who  were  constantly  urging  it  upon 
me,  as  a  duty,  to  give  my  narrative  to  the  public.  I  had  seve- 
ral reasons,  however,  for  declining  to  do  so,  some  of  which  were 
of  a  nature  altogether  private,  and  concern  no  person  but  my- 
self; others  not  so  much  so.  One  consideration  which  deterred 
me  was,  that,  having  kept  no  journal  during  a  greater  portion  of 
the  time  in  which  I  was  absent,  I  feared  I  should  not  be  able  to 
write,  from  mere  memory,  a  statement  so  minute  and  connected 
as  to  have  the  appearance  of  that  truth  it  would  really  possess, 
barring  only  the  natural  and  unavoidable  exaggeration  to  which 
all  of  us  are  prone  when  detailing  events  which  have  had  pow- 
erful influence  in  exciting  the  imaginative  faculties.  Another 
reason  was,  that  the  incidents  to  be  narrated  were  of  a  nature  so 
positively  marvellous,  that,  unsupported  as  my  assertions  must 
necessarily  be  (except  by  the  evidence  of  a  single  individual, 
and  he  a  half-breed  Indian),  I  could  only  hope  for  belief  among 
my  family,  and  those  of  my  friends  who  have  had  reason, 


*  PREFACE. 

through,  life,  to  put  faith  in  my  veracity — the  probability  being 
that  the  public  at  large  would  regard  what  I  should  put  forth  as 
merely  an  impudent  and  ingenious  fiction.  A  distrust  in  my 
own  abilities  as  a  writer  was,  nevertheless,  one  of  the  principal 
causes  which  prevented  me  from  complying  with  the  suggestions 
of  my  advisers. 

Among  those  gentlemen  in  Virginia  who  expressed  the  great- 
est interest  in  my  statement,  more  particularly  in  regard  to  that 
portion  of  it  which  related  to  the  Antarctic  Ocean,  was  Mr.  Poe, 
lately  editor  of  the  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  a  monthly 
magazine,  published  by  Mr.  Thomas  TV.  White,  in  the  city  of 
Richmond.  He  strongly  advised  me,  among  others,  to  prepare 
at  once  a  full  account  of  what  I  had  seen  and  undergone,  and 
trust  to  the  shrewdness  and  common  sense  of  the  public — insist- 
ing, with  great  plausibility,  that  however  roughly,  as  regards 
mere  authorship,  my  book  should  be  got  up,  its  very  uncouth- 
ness,  if  there  were  any,  would  give  it  all  the  better  chance  of 
being  received  as  truth. 

Notwithstanding  this  representation,  I  did  not  make  up  my 
mind  to  do  as  he  suggested.  He  afterward  proposed  (finding 
that  I  would  not  stir  in  the  matter)  that  I  should  allow  him  to 
draw  up,  in  his  own  words,  a  narrative  of  the  earlier  portion  of 
my  adventures,  from  facts  afforded  by  myself,  publishing  it  in 
the  Southern  Messenger  under  the  garb  of  fiction.  To  this, 
perceiving  no  objection,  I  consented,  stipulating  only  that  my 
real  name  should  be  retained.  Two  numbers  of  the  pretended 
fiction  appeared,  consequently,  in  the  Messenger  for  January 
and  February  (1837),  and,  in  order  that  it  might  certainly  be 
regarded  as  fiction,  the  name  of  Mr.  Poe  was  affixed  to  the  arti- 
cles in  the  table  of  contents  of  the  magazine. 

The  manner  in  which  this  ruse  was  received  has  induced  me 
at  length  to  undertake  a  regular  compilation  and  publication  of 
the  adventures  in  question ;  foi  I  found  that,  in  spite  of  the  air 


PREFACE.  ri 

of  fable  which  had  been  so  ingeniously  thrown  around  that  por- 
tion of  my  statement  which  appeared  in  the  Messenger  (without 
altering  or  distorting  a  single  fact),  the  public  were  still  not  at 
all  disposed  to  receive  it  as  fable,  and  several  letters  were  sent 
to  Mr.  P.'s  address,  distinctly  expressing  a  conviction  to  the  con- 
trary. I  thence  concluded  that  the  fact."  of  my  narrative  would 
prove  of  such  a  nature  as  to  carry  with  them  sufficient  evidence 
of  their  own  authenticity,  and  that  I  had  consequently  little  to 
fear  on  the  score  of  popular  incredulity. 

This  expose  being  made,  it  will  be  seen  at  once  how  much  of 
what  follows  I  claim  to  be  my  own  writing ;  and  it  will  also  be 
understood  that  no  fact  is  misrepresented  in  the  first  few  pages 
which  were  written  by  Mr.  Poe.  Even  to  those  readers  who 
have  not  seen  the  Messenger,  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  point  out 
where  his  portion  ends  and  my  own  commences ;  the  difference 
in  point  of  style  will  be  readily  perceived. 

A.  G.  PYM. 


NARRATIVE  OF  A.  GORDON  PYM 


CHAPTER  I. 

MY  name  is  Arthur  Gordon  Pym.  My  father  was  a  respect- 
able trader  in  sea-stores  at  Nantucket,  where  I  was  born.  My 
maternal  grandfiither  was  an  attorney  in  good  practice.  He  was 
fortunate  in  everything,  and  had  speculated  very  successfully  in 
stocks  of  the  Edgarton  New  Bank,  as  it  was  formerly  called. 
By  these  and  other  means  he  had  managed  to  lay  by  a  tolerable 
sum  of  money.  He  was  more  attached  to  myself,  I  believe, 
than  to  any  other  person  in  the  world,  and  I  expected  to  inherit 
the  most  of  his  property  at  his  death.  He  sent  me,  at  six  years 
of  age,  to  the  school  of  old  Mr.  Ricketts,  a  gentleman  with  only 
one  arm,  and  of  eccentric  manners — he  is  well  known  to  almost 
every  person  who  has  visited  New  Bedford.  I  stayed  at  his 
school  until  I  was  sixteen,  when  I  left  him  for  Mr.  E.  Ronald's 
academy  on  the  hill.  Here  I  became  intimate  with  the  son  of 
Mr.  Barnard,  a  sea  captain,  who  generally  sailed  in  the  employ 
f  Lloyd  and  Vredenburgh — rMr.  Barnard  is  also  very  well 
known  in  New  Bedford,  and  has  many  relations,  I  am  certain, 
in  Edgarton.  His  son  was  named  Augustus,  and  he  was  nearly 
two  years  older  than  myself.  He  had  been  on  a  whaling  voyage 
with  his  father  in  the  John  Donaldson,  and  was  always  talking 
to  me  of  his  adventures  in  the  South  Pacific  Ocean.  I  used 
frequently  to  go  home  with  him,  and  remain  all  day,  and  some- 
times all  night.  We  occupied  the  same  bed,  and  he  would  be 
sure  to  keep  me  awake  until  almost  light,  telling  me  stories  of 
the  natives  of  the  Island  of  Tinian,  and  other  places  he  had  visited 
in  his  travels.  At  last  I  could  not  help  being  interested  in  what  lie 


H  NARRATIVE  OF 

said,  and  by  degrees  I  felt  the  greatest  desire  to  go  to  sea.  I 
owned  a  sail-boat  called  the  Ariel,  and  worth  about  seventy-five 
dollars.  She  had  a  half  deck  or  cuddy,  and  was  rigged  sloop- 
fashion — I  forget  her  tonnage,  but  she  would  hold  ten  persons 
without  much  crowding.  In  this  boat  we  were  in  the  habit  of 
going  on  some  of  the  maddest  freaks  in  the  world ;  and,  when  I 
now  think  of  them,  it  appears  to  me  a  thousand  wonders  that  1 
am  alive  to-day. 

I  will  relate  one  of  these  adventures  by  way  of  introduction 
to  a  longer  and  more  momentous  narrative.  One  night  there 
was  a  party  at  Mr.  Barnard's,  and  both  Augustus  and  myself 
were  not  a  little  intoxicated  towards  the  close  of  it.  As  usual, 
in  such  cases,  I  took  part  of  his  bed  in  preference  to  going 
home.  He  went  to  sleep,  as  I  thought,  very  quietly  (it  being 
near  one  when  the  party  broke  up),  and  without  saying  a  word 
on  his  favorite  topic.  It  might  have  been  half  an  hour  from 
the  time  of  our  getting  in  bed,  and  I  was  just  about  falling  into 
a  doze,  when  he  suddenly  started  up,  and  swore  with  a  terrible 
oath  that  he  would  not  go  to  sleep  for  any  Arthur  Pym  in 
Christendom,  when  there  was  so  glorious  a  breeze  from  the 
south-west.  I  never  was  so  astonished  in  my  life,  not  knowing 
what  he  intended,  and  thinking  that  the  wines  and  liquors  he 
had  drunk  had  set  him  entirely  beside  himself.  He  proceeded 
to  talk  very  coolly,  however,  saying  he  knew  that  I  supposed 
him  intoxicated,  but  that  he  was  never  more  sober  in  his  life. 
He  was  only  tired,  he  added,  of  lying  in  bed  on  such  a  fine 
night  like  a  dog,  and  was  determined  to  get  up  and  dress,  and  go 
out  on  a  frolic  with  the  boat.  I  can  hardly  tell  what  possessed 
me,  but  the  words  were  no  sooner  out  of  his  mouth  than  I  felt  a 
thrill  of  the  greatest  excitement  and  pleasure,  and  thought  his 
mad  idea  one  of  the  most  delightful  and  most  reasonable  things 
in  the  world.  It  was  blowing  almost  a  gale,  and  the  weather 
was  very  cold — it  being  late  in  October.  I  sprang  out  of  bed, 
nevertheless,  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  and  told  him  I  was  quite  as 
brave  as  himself,  and  quite  as  tired  as  he  was  of  lying  in  bed 
like  a  dog,  and  quite  as  ready  for  any  fun  or  frolic  as  any 
Augustus  Barnard  in  Nantucket. 

We  lost  no  time  ir  getting:  on  our  clothes  and  hurrying  down 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  15 

to  the  boat.  She  was  lying  at  the  old  decayed  wharf  by  the. 
lumber-yard  of  Pankey  &  Co.,  and  almost  thumping  her  sides 
out  against  the  rough  logs.  Augustus  got  into  her  and  bailed 
her,  for  she  was  nearly  half  full  of  water.  This  being  done, 
we  hoisted  jib  and  mainsail,  kept  full,  and  started  boldly  out  to 
sea. 

The  wind,  as  I  before  said,  blew  freshly  from  the  south-west 
The  night  was  very  clear  and  cold.  Augustus  had  taken  the 
helm,  and  I  stationed  myself  by  the  mast,  on  the  deck  of  the 
cuddy.  We  flew  along  at  a  great  rate — neither  of  us  having 
yaid  a  word  since  casting  loose  from  the  wharf.  I  now  asked 
my  companion  what  course  he  intended  to  steer,  and  what  time 
he  thought  it  probable  we  should  get  back.  He  whistled  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then  said  crustily,  "  1  am  going  to  sea — you 
may  go  home  if  you  think  proper."  Turning  my  eyes  upon 
him,  I  perceived  at  once  that,  in  spite  of  his  assumed  nonchalance, 
he  was  greatly  agitated.  I  could  see  him  distinctly  by  the  light 
of  the  moon — his  face  was  paler  than  any  marble,  and  his  hand 
shook  so  excessively  that  he  could  scarcely  retain  hold  of  the 
tiller.  I  found  that  something  had  gone  wrong,  and  became 
seriously  alarmed.  At  this  period  I  knew  little  about  the 
management  of  a  boat,  and  was  now  depending  entirely  upon 
the  nautical  skill  of  my  friend.  The  wind,  too,  had  suddenly 
increased,  and  we  were  fast  getting  out  of  the  lee  of  the  land — 
still  I  was  ashamed  to  betray  any  trepidation,  and  for  almost 
half  an  hour  maintained  a  resolute  silence.  I  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  however,  and  spoke  to  Augustus  about  the  propriety  of 
turning  back.  As  before,  it  was  nearly  a  minute  before  he  made 
answer,  or  took  any  notice  of  my  suggestion.  "  By-and-by,"  said 
he  at  length — "  time  enough — home  by-and-by."  I  had  expected 
such  a  reply,  but  there  was  something  in  the  tone  of  these  words 
which  filled  me  with  an  indescribable  feeling  of  dread.  I  again 
looked  at  the  speaker  attentively.  His  lips  were  perfectly  livid, 
and  his  knees  shook  so  violently  together,  that  he  seemed 
scarcely  able  to  stand.  "  For  God's  sake,  Augustus,"  I  screamed, 
now  heartily  frightened,  "  what  ails  you  ? — what  is  the  matter  ? 
—what  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  "  Matter !"  he  stammered,  in  the 
greatest  apparent  surprise,  letting  go  the  tiller  at  the  same  mo- 


IQ  JSARRATIVE  OF 

merit,  and  falling  forward  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat — "  matter 
— why,  nothing  is  the — matter — going  home — d — d — don't  you 
see  ?"  The  whole  truth  now  flashed  upon  me.  I  flew  to  him 
and  raised  him  up.  He  was  drunk — beastly  drunk — he  could 
no  longer  either  stand,  speak,  or  see.  His  eyes  were  perfectly 
glazed ;  and  as  I  let  him  go  in  the  extremity  of  my  despair,  he 
rolled  like  a  mere  log  into  the  bilge-water  from  which  I  had 
lifted  him.  It  was  evident  that,  during  the  evening,  he  had 
drunk  far  more  than  I  suspected,  and  that  his  conduct  in  bed  had 
been  the  result  of  a  highly-concentrated  state  of  intoxication — 
a  state  which,  like  madness,  frequently  enables  the  victim  to  imi- 
tate the  outward  demeanor  of  one  in  perfect  possession  of  his 
senses.  The  coolness  of  the  night  air,  however,  had  had  its  usual 
effect — the  mental  energy  began  to  yield  before  its  influence — • 
and  the  confused  perception  Avhich  he  no  doubt  then  had  of  his 
perilous  situation  had  assisted  in  hastening  the  catastrophe. 
He  was  now  thoroughly  insensible,  and  there  was  no  probability 
that  he  would  be  otherwise  for  many  hours. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  conceive  the  extremity  of  my  terror. 
The  fumes  of  the  wine  lately  taken  had  evaporated,  leaving  me 
doubly  timid  and  irresolute.  I  knew  that  I  was  altogether  in- 
capable of  managing  the  boat,  and  that  a  fierce  wind  and  strong 
ebb  tide  were  hurrying  us  to  destruction.  A  storm  was  evi- 
dently gathering  behind  us ;  we  had  neither  compass  nor  pro- 
visions ;  and  it  was  clear  that,  if  we  held  our  present  course,  we 
should  be  out  of  sight  of  land  before  daybreak.  These  thoughts, 
with  a  crowd  of  others  equally  fearful,  flashed  through  my  mind 
with  a  bewildering  rapidity,  and  for  some  moments  paralyzed 
me  beyond  the  possibility  of  making  any  exertion.  The  boat 
was  going  through  the  water  at  a  terrible  rate — full  before  the 
wind — no  reef  in  either  jib  or  mainsail — running  her  bows  com- 
pletely under  the  foam.  It  was  a  thousand  wonders  she  did 
not  broach  to — Augustus  having  let  go  the  tiller,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, and  I  being  too  much  agitated  to  think  of  taking  it  myself 
By  good  luck,  however,  she  kept  steady,  and  gradually  I  re- 
covered some  degree  of  presence  of  mind.  Still  the  wind  was 
increasing  fearfully ;  and  whenever  we  rose  from  a  plunge  for- 
ward, the  sea  behind  fell  combing  over  our  counter,  and  deluged 


A.  GORDOiN  PY.M.  17 

us  with  water.  I  \vas  so  utterly  benumbed,  toe,  in  every  limb, 
as  to  be  nearly  unconscious  of  sensation.  At  length  I  sum- 
moned up  the  resolution  of  despair,  and  rushing  to  the  mainsail, 
let  it  go  by  the  run.  As  might  have  been  expected,  it  flew  over 
the  bows,  and,  getting  drenched  with  water,  carried  away  the 
mast  short  off  by  the  board.  This  latter  accident  alone  saved 
me  from  instant  destruction.  Under  the  jib  only,  I  now  boomed 
along  before  the  wind,  shipping  heavy  seas  occasionally,  but 
relieved  from  the  terror  of  immediate  death.  I  took  the  helm, 
and  breathed  with  greater  freedom,  as  I  found  that  there  yet  re- 
mained to  us  a  chance  of  ultimate  escape.  Augustus  still  lay 
senseless  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat ;  and  as  there  was  imminent 
danger  of  his  drowning  (the  water  being  nearly  a  foot  deep 
just  where  he  fell),  I  contrived  to  raise  him  partially  up,  and 
keep  him  in  a  sitting  position,  by  passing  a  rope  round  his  waist, 
and  lashing  it  to  a  ringbolt  in  the  deck  of  the  cuddy.  Having 
thus  arranged  everything  as  well  as  I  could  in  my  chilled  and 
agitated  condition,  I  recommended  myself  to  God,  and  made  up 
my  mind  to  bear  whatever  might  happen  with  all  the  fortitude 
in  my  power. 

Hardly  had  I  came  to  this  resolution,  when,  suddenly,  a  loud 
and  long  scream  or  yell,  as  if  from  the  throats  of  a  thousand 
demons,  seemed  to  pervade  the  whole  atmosphere  around 
and  above  the  boat.  Never  while  I  live  shall  I  "forget  the  in- 
tense agony  of  terror  I  experienced  at  that  moment.  My  hair 
stood  erect  on  my  head — I  felt  the  blood  congealing  in  my  veins 
• — my  heart  ceased  utterly  to  beat,  and  without  having  once 
raised  my  eyes  to  learn  the  source  of  my  alarm,  I  tumbled 
headlong  and  insensible  upon  the  body  of  my  fallen  com- 
panion. 

I  found  myself,  upon  reviving,  in  the  cabin  of  a  large  whaling- 
ship  (the  Penguin)  bound  to  Jsantucket.  Several  persons  were 
standing  over  me,  and  Augustus,  paler  than  death,  was  busily 
occupied  in  chafing  my  hands.  Upon  seeing  me  cpen  my  eyes, 
his  exclamations  of  gratitude  and  joy  excited  alternate  laughter 
and  tears  from  the  rough-looking  personages  who  were  present. 
The  mystery  of  our  being  in  existence  was  now  soon  explained. 
We  had  been  run  down  by  the  whaling-ship,  which  was  clcse 


18  NARRATIVE  OF 

hauled,  beating  up  to  Nantucket  with  every  sail  she  could 
venture  to  set,  and  consequently  running  almost  at  right  angles 
to  our  own  course.  Several  men  were  on  the  look-out  forward, 
but  did  not  perceive  our  boat  until  it  was  an  impossibility  to 
avoid  coming  in  contact — their  shouts  of  warning  upon  seeing 
us  were  what  so  terribly  alarmed  me.  The  huge  ship,  I  was 
told,  rode  immediately  over  us  with  as  much  ease  as  our  own 
little  vessel  would  have  passed  over  a  feather,  and  without  the 
least  perceptible  impediment  to  her  progress.  Not  a  scream  arose 
from  the  deck  of  the  victim — there  was  a  slight  grating  sound 
to  be  heard  mingling  with  the  roar  of  wind  and  water,  as  the 
frail  bark  which  was  swallowed  up  rubbed  for  a  moment  along 
the  keel  of  her  destroyer — but  this  was  all.  Thinking  our  boat 
(which  it  will  be  remembered  was  dismasted)  some  mere  shell 
cut  adrift  as  useless,  the  captain  (Captain  E.  T.  V.  Block  of 
New  London)  was  for  proceeding  on  his  course  without  troubling 
himself  further  about  the  matter.  Luckily,  there  were  two  oi 
the  look-out  who  swore  positively  to  having  seen  some  person  at 
our  helm,  and  represented  the  possibility  of  yet  saving  him.  A 
discussion  ensued,  when  Block  grew  angry,  and,  after  a  while, 
said  that  "  it  was  no  business  of  his  to  be  eternally  watching  for 
egg-shells;  that  the  ship  should  not  put  about  for  any  such 
nonsense ;  and  if  there  was  a  man  run  down,  it  was  nobody's 
fault  but  his  "own — he  might  drown  and  be  d — d,"  or  some 
language  to  that  effect.  Henderson,  the  first  mate,  now  took  the 
matter  up,  being  justly  indignant,  as  well  as  the  whole  ship's 
crew,  at  a  speech  evincing  such  a  degree  of  heartless  atrocity. 
He  spoke  plainly,  seeing  himself  upheld  by  the  men,  told  the 
captain  he  considered  him  a  fit  subject  for  the  gallows,  and  that 
he  would  disobey  his  orders  if  he  were  hanged  for  it  the  moment 
he  set  his"  foot  on  shore.  He  strode  aft,  jostling  Block  (who 
turned  very  pale  and  made  no  answer)  on  one  side,  and  seizing 
the  helm,  gave  the  word,  in  a  firm  voice,  Hard-a-lee  !  The  men 
flew  to  their  posts,  and  the  ship  went  cleverly  about.  All  this 
had  occupied  nearly  five  minutes,  and  it  was  supposed  to  be 
hardly  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  any  individual  could 
be  saved — allowing  any  to  have  been  on  board  the  boat.  Yet, 
as  tne  reader  has  seen,  both  Augustus  and  myself  were  rescued; 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  19 

and  our  deliverance  seemed  to  have  been  brought  about  by  two 
of  those  almost  inconceivable  pieces  of  good  fortune  which  are 
attributed  by^he  wise  and  pious  to  the  special  interference  of 
Providence. 

While  the  ship  was  yet  in  stays,  the  mate  lowered  the  jolly- 
boat  and  jumped  into  her  with  the  very  two  men,  I  believe,  who 
spoke  up  as  having  seen  me  at  the  helm.  They  had  just  left  the 
lee  of  the  vessel  (the  moon  still  shining  brightly)  when  she  made 
a  long  and  heavy  roll  to  windward,  and  Henderson,  at  the  same 
moment,  starting  up  in  his  seat,  bawled  out  to  his  crew  to  back 
water.  He  would  say  nothing  else — repeating  his  cry  impatiently, 
back  water!  back  water!  The  men  put  back  as  speedily  as  pos- 
sible ;  but  by  this  time  the  ship  had  gone  round,  and  gotten  fully 
under  headway,  although  all  hands  on  board  were  making  great 
exertions  to  take  in  sail.  In  despite  of  the  danger  of  the  attempt, 
the  mate  clung  to  the  main-chains  as  soon  as  they  came  within 
his  reach.  Another  huge  lurch  now  brought  the  starboard  side 
of  the  vessel  out  of  water  nearly  as  far  as  her  keel,  when  the 
cause  of  his  anxiety  was  rendered  obvious  enough.  The  body 
of  a  man  was  seen  to  be  affixed  in  the  most  singular  manner  to 
the  smooth  and  shining  bottom  (the  Penguin  was  coppered  and 
copper-fastened),  and  beating  violently  against  it  with  every 
movement  of  the  hull.  After  several  ineffectual  efforts,  made 
during  the  lurches  of  the  ship,  and  at  the  imminent  risk  of 
swamping  the  boat,  I  was  finally  disengaged  from  my  perilous 
situation  and  taken  on  board — for  the  body  proved  to  be  my  own. 
It  appeared  that  one  of  the  timber-bolts  having  started  and 
broken  a  passage  through  the  copper,  it  had  arrested  my  progress 
as  I  passed  under  the  ship,  and  fastened  me  in  so  extraordinary 
a  manner  to  her  bottom.  The  head  of  the  bolt  had  made  its  way 
through  the  collar  of  the  green  baize  jacket  I  had  on,  and  through 
the  back  part  of  my  neck,  forcing  itself  out  between  two  sinews 
and  just  below  the  right  ear.  I  was  immediately  put  to  bed — 
although  life  seemed  to  be  totally  extinct.  There  was  no  sur- 
geon on  board.  The  captain,  however,  treated  me  with  every 
attention — to  make  amends,  I  presume,  in  the  eyes  of  his  crew> 
for  his  atrocious  behavior  in  the  previous  portion  of  the  adventure. 

In  the  meantime,  Henderson  had  again  put  off  from  the  ship, 


20  NARRATIVE  OF 

although  the  wind  was  now  blowing  almost  a  hurricane.  He 
had  not  been  gone  many  minutes  when  he  fell  in  with  some  frag- 
ments of  our  boat,  and  shortly  afterwards  one  of  the  "men  with  him 
asserted  that  he  could  distinguish  a  cry  for  help  at  intervals  amid 
the  roaring  of  the  tempest.  This  induced  the  hardy  seamen  to 
persevere  in  their  search  for  more  than  half  an  hour,  although 
repeated  signals  to  return  were  made  them  by  Captain  Block, 
and  although  every  moment  on  the  water  in  so  frail  a  boat  was 
fraught  to  them  with  the  most  imminent  and  deadly  peril.'  In- 
deed, it  is  nearly  impossible  to  conceive  how  the  small  jolly  they 
were  m  could  have  escaped  destruction  for  a  single  instant.  She 
was  built,  however,  for  the  whaling  service,  and  was  fitted,  as  I 
have  since  had  reason  to  believe,  with  air-boxes,  in  the  manner 
of  some  life-boats  used  on  the  coast  of  Wales. 

After  searching  in  vain  for  about  the  period  of  time  just  men- 
tioned, it  was  determined  to  get  back  to  the  ship.  They  had 
scarcely  made  this  resolve  when  a  feeble  cry  arose  from  a  dark 
object  that  floated  rapidly  by.  They  pursued  and  soon  overtook 
it.  It  proved  to  be  the  entire  deck  of  the  Ariel's  cuddy.  Au- 
gustus was  struggling  near  it,  apparently  in  the  last  agonies. 
Upon  getting  hold  of  him  it  was  found  that  he  was  attached  by 
a  rope  to  the  floating  timber.  This  rope,  it  will  be  remembered, 
I  had  myself  tied  round  his  waist,  and  made  fast  to  a  ringbolt, 
for  the  purpose  of  keeping  him  in  an  upright  position,  and  my  so 
doing,  it  appeared,  had  been  ultimately  the  means  of  preserving 
his  life.  The  Ariel  was  slightly  put  together,  and  in  going  down 
her  frame  naturally  went  to  pieces ;  the  deck  of  the  cuddy,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  was  lifted,  by  the  force  of  the  water 
rushing  in,  entirely  from  the  main  timbers,  and  floated  (with 
other  fragments,  no  doubt)  to  the  surface — Augustus  was  buoyed 
up  with  it,  and  thus  escaped  a  terrible  death. 

It  was  more  than  an  hour  after  being  taken  on  board  the  Pen- 
guin before  he  could  give  any  account  of  himself,  or  be  made  to 
comprehend  the  nature  of  the  accident  which  had  befallen  our 
boat.  At  length  he  became  thoroughly  aroused,  and  spoke  much 
of  his  sensations  while  in  the  water.  Upon  his  first  attaining 
any  degree  of  consciousness,  he  found  himself  beneath  the  sur- 
face, whirling  round  and  round  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  and 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  21 

with  a  rope  wound  in  three  or  four  folds  tightly  about  his  neck. 
In  an  instant  afterwards  he  felt  himself  going  rapidly  upward, 
when,  his  head  striking  violently  against  a  hard  substance,  he 
again  relapsed  into  insensibility.  Upon  once  more  reviving  he 
was  in  ft.ller  possession  of  his  reason — this  was  still,  however,  in 
the  greatest  degree  clouded  and  confused.  He  now  knew  that 
some  accident  had  occurred,  and  that  he  was  in  the  watei,  although 
his  mouth  was  above  the  surface,  and  he  could  breathe  with  some 
freedom.  Possibly,  at  this  period,  the  deck  was  drifting  rapidly 
before  the  wind,  and  drawing  him  after  it,  as  he  floated  upon  his 
back.  Of  course,  as  long  as  he  could  have  retained  this  position, 
it  would  have  been  nearly  impossible  that  he  should  be  drowned. 
Presently  a  surge  threw  him  directly  athwart  the  deck ;  and  this 
post  he  endeavored  to  maintain,  screaming  at  intervals  for  help. 
Just  before  he  was  discovered  by  Mr.  Henderson,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  relax  his  hold  through  exhaustion,  and,  falling  into  the 
sea,  had  given  himself  up  for  lost.  During  the  whole  period  of 
his  struggles  he  had  not  the  faintest  recollection  of  the  Ariel,  nor 
of  any  matters  in  connection  with  the  source  of  his  disaster.  A 
vague  feeling  of  terror  and  despair  had  taken  entire  possession 
of  his  faculties.  When  he  was  finally  picked  up,  every  power 
of  his  mind  had  failed  him ;  and,  as  before  said,  it  was  nearly  an 
hour  after  getting  on  board  the  Penguin  before  he  became  fully 
aware  of  his  condition.  In  regard  to  myself — I  was  resuscitated 
from  a  state  bordering  very  nearly  upon  death  (and  after  every 
other  means  had  been  tried  in  vain  for  three  hours  and  a  half) 
by  vigorous  friction  with  flannels  bathed  in  hot  oil — a  proceed  ing 
suggested  by  Augustus.  The  wound  in  my  neck,  although  of  an 
ugly  appearance,  proved  of  little  real  consequence,  and  I  soon 
recovered  from  its  effects. 

The  Penguin  got  into  port  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
after  encountering  one  of  the  severest  gales  ever  experienced  off 
Nantucket.  Both  Augustus  and  myself  managed  to  appear  at 
Mr.  Barnard's  in  time  for  breakfast — which,  luckily,  was  some- 
what late,  .owing  to  the  party  over  night.  I  suppose,  all  at  the 
table  were  too  much  fatigued  themselves  to  notice  our  jaded  ap- 
pearance— of  course,  it  would  not  have  borne  a  very  rigid  scru- 
tiny. Schoolboys,  however,  can  accomplish  wonders  in  the  way 


22  NARRATIVE  UF 

of  deception,  and  I  verily  believe  not  one  of  our  friends  in  Nan- 
tucket  had  the  slightest  suspicion  that  the  terrible  story  told  by 
some  sailors  in  town  of  their  having  run  down  a  vessel  at  sea 
and  drowned  some  thirty  or  forty  poor  devils,  had  reference 
either  to  the  Ariel,  my  companion,  or  myself.  We  two  have 
since  very  frequently  talked  the  matter  over — but  never  without 
a  shudder.  In  one  of  our  conversations  Augustus  frankly  con- 
fessed to  me,  that  in  his  whole  life  he  had  at  no  time  experienced 
so  excruciating  a  sense  of  dismay,  as  when  on  board  our  little 
boat  he  first  discovered  the  extent  of  his  intoxication,  and  felt 
himself  sinking  beneath  its  influence. 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN  no  affairs  of  mere  prejudice,  pro  or  con,  do  we  deduce  in- 
ferences with  entire  certainty,  even  from  the  most  simple  data. 
It  might  be  supposed  that  a  catastrophe  such  as  I  have  just 
related  would  have  effectually  cooled  my  incipient  passion  for  the 
sea  On  the  contrary,  I  never  experienced  a  more  ardent  long- 
ing for  the  wild  adventures  incident  to  the  life  of  a  navigator 
than  within  a  week  after  our  miraculous  deliverance.  This 
short  period  proved  amply  long  enough  to  erase  from  my  memory 
the  shadows,  and  bring  out  in  vivid  light  all  the  pleasurably  ex' 
citing  points  of  color,  all  the  picturesqueness  of  the  late  perilous 
accident.  My  conversations  with  Augustus  grew  daily  more 
frequent  and  more  intensely  full  of  interest.  He  fead  a  manner 
of  relating  his  stories  of  the  ocean  (more  than  one-half  of  which 
I  now  suspect  to  have  been  sheer  fabrications)  well  adapted  to 
have  weight  with  one  of  my  enthusiastic  temperament,  and  some- 
what gloomy,  although  glowing  imagination.  It  is  strange,  too, 
that  he  most  strongly  enlisted  my  feelings  in  behalf  of  the  life  of 
a  seaman,  when  he  depicted  his  more  terrible  moments  of  suffer- 
ing and  despair.  For  the  bright  side  of  the  painting  I  had  a 
limited  sympathy.  My  visions  were  of  shipwreck  and  famine ; 
of  death  or  captivity  among  barbarian  hordes ;  of  a  lifetime 
dragged  out  m  sorrow  and  tears,  upon  some  gray  and  desolate 


.    A.  GORDON  PYM.  23 

rock,  in  an  ocean  unapproachable  and  unknown.  Such  visions 
01  desires — for  they  amounted  to  desires — are  common,  I  have 
since  been  assured,  to  the  whole  numerous  race  of  the  melancholy 
among  men — at  the  time  of  which  I  speak  I  regarded  them  only 
as  prophetic  glimpses  of  a  destiny  which  I  felt  myself  in  a 
measure  bound  to  fulfil.  Augustus  thoroughly  entered  into  my 
state  of  mind.  It  is  probable,  indeed,  that  our  intimate  com- 
munion had  resulted  in  a  partial  interchange  of  character. 

About  eighteen  months  after  the  period  of  the  Ariel's  disaster, 
the  firm  of  Lloyd  and  Vredenburgh  (a  house  connected  in  some 
manner  with  the  Messieurs.  Enderby,  I  believe,  of  Liverpool)  were 
engaged  in  repairing  and  fitting  out  the  brig  Grampus  for  a 
whaling  voyage.  She  was  an  old  hulk,  and  scarcely  seaworthy 
when  all  was  done  to  her  that  could  be  done.  I  hardly  know 
why  she  was  chosen  hi  preference  to  other  and  good  vessels  be- 
longing to  the  same  owners — but  so  it  was.  Mr.  Barnard  waa 
appointed  to  command  her,  and  Augustus  was  going  with  him. 
While  the  brig  was  getting  ready,  he  frequently  urged  upon  me 
the  excellency  of  the  opportunity  now  offered  for  indulging  my 
desire  of  travel.  He  found  me  by  no  means  an  unwilling  listen- 
er— yet  the  matter  could  not  be  so  easily  arranged.  My  father 
made  no  direct  opposition  ;  but  my  mother  went  into  hysterics  at 
the  bare  mention  of  the  design  ;  and,  more  than  all,  my  grand- 
father, from  whom  I  expected  much,  vowed  to  cut  me  off  with  a 
shilling  if  I  should  ever  broach  the  subject  to  him  again.  These 
difficulties,  however,  so  far  from  abating  my  desire,  only  added 
fuel  to  the  flame.  I  determined  to  go  at  all  hazards  ;  and,  having 
made  known  my  intention  to  Augustus,  we  set  about  arranging  a 
plan  by  which  it  might  be  accomplished.  In  the  meantime  I 
forbore  speaking  to  any  of  my  relations  in  regard  to  the  voyage, 
and.  as  I  busied  myself  ostensibly  with  my  usual  studies,  it  was 
supposed  that  I  had  abandoned  the  design.  I  have  since  fre- 
quently examined  my  conduct  on  this  occasion  with  sentiments  of 
displeasure  as  well  as  of  surprise.  The  intense  hypocrisy  I  made 
use  of  for  the  furtherance  of  my  project — an  hypocrisy  pervading 
every  word  and  action  of  my  life  for  so  long  a  period  of  time — 
oould  only  have  been  rendered  tolerable  to  myself  by  the  wild 


24  NARRATIVE  OF 

and  burning  expectation  with  which  I  looked  forward  to  the  ful 
filment  of  my  long-cherished  visions  of  travel. 

In  pursuance  of  my  scheme  of  deception,  I  was  necessarily 
obliged  to  leave  much  to  the  management  of  Augustus,  who  was 
employed  for  the  greater  part  of  every  day  on  board  the  Gram- 
pus, attending  to  some  arrangements  for  his  father  in  the  cabin 
and  cabin  hold.  At  night,  however,  we  were  sure  to  have  a 
conference,  and  talk  over  our  hopes.  After  nearly  a  month 
passed  in  this  manner,  without  our  hitting  upon  any  plan  we 
thought  likely  to  succeed,  he  told  me  at  last  that  he  had  deter- 
mined upon  everything  necessary.  1  had  a  relation  living  in 
New  Bedford,  a  Mr.  Ross,  at  whose  house  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
spending  occasionally  two  or  three  weeks  at  a  time.  The  brig 
was  to  sail  about  the  middle  of  June  (June,  1827),  and  it  was 
agreed  that,  a  day  or  two  before  her  putting  to  sea,  my  father 
was  to  receive  a  note,  as  usual,  from  Mr.  Ross,  asking  me  to 
come  over  and  spend  a  fortnight  with  Robert  and  Emmet  (his 
sons).  Augustus  charged  himself  with  the  inditing  of  this  note 
and  getting  it  delivered.  Having  set  out,  as  supposed,  for  New 
Bedford,  I  was  then  to  report  myself  to  my  companion,  who 
would  contrive  a  hiding-place  for  me  in  the  Grampus.  This 
hiding-place,  he  assured  me,  would  be  rendered  sufficiently  com- 
fortable for  a  residence  of  many  days,  during  which  I  was  not  to 
make  my  appearance.  When  the  brig  had  proceeded  so  far  on 
her  course  as  to  make  any  turning  back  a  matter  out  of  question, 
I  should  then,  he  said,  be  formally  installed  in  all  the  comforts  of 
the  cabin  ;  and  as  to  his  father,  he  would  only  laugh  heartily  at 
the  joke.  Vessels  enough  would  be  met  with  by  which  a  letter 
might  be  sent  home  explaining  the  adventure  to  my  parents. 

The  middle  of  June  at  length  arrived,  and  everything  had  been 
matured.  The  note  was  written  and  delivered,  and  on  a  Monday 
morning  I  left  the  house  for  the  New  Bedford  packet,  as  sup- 
posed. I  went,  however,  straight  to  Augustus,  who  was  waiting 
for  me  at  the  corner  of  a  street.  It  had  been  our  original  plan 
that  I  should  keep  out  of  the  way  until  dark,  and  then  slid  on 
board  the  brig;  but,  as  there  was  now  a  thick  fog  in  our  favor,  it 
was  agreed  to  lose  no  time  in  secreting  me.  Augustus  led  the 
Way  to  the  wharf,  and  I  followed  nt  a  little  distance,  enveloped  it? 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  25 

a  thick  seaman's  cloak,  which  he  had  brought  with  him,  so  that 
my  person  might  not  be  easily  recognized.  Just  as  we  turned 
the  second  corner,  after  passing  Mr.  Edmund's  well,  who  should 
appear,  standing  right  in  front  of  me,  and  looking  me  full  in  the 
face,  but  old  Mr.  Peterson,  my  grandfather.  "  Why,  bless  my 
soul,  Gordon,"  said  he,  after  a  long  pause,  "  why,  why, — whose 
dirty  cloak  is  that  you  have  on  ?"  "  Sir  !"  I  replied,  assuming, 
as  well  as  I  could,  in  the  exigency  of  the  moment,  an  air  of  of- 
fended surprise,  and  talking  in  the  gruffest  of  all  imaginable 
tones — "  sir  !  you  are  a  sum'mat  mistaken — my  name,  in  the  first 
place,  bee'nt  nothing  at  all  like  Goddin,  and  I'd  want  you  for  to 
know  better,  you  blackguard,  than  to  call  my  new  obercoat  a 
darty  one."  For  my  life  I  could  hardly  refrain  from  screaming 
with  laughter  at  the  odd  manner  in  which  the  old  gentleman  re- 
ceived this  handsome  rebuke.  He  started  back  two  or  three 
steps,  turned  first  pale  and  then  excessively  red,  threw  up  his 
spectacles,  then,  putting  them  down,  ran  full  tilt  at  me,  with  his 
umbrella  uplifted.  He  stopped  short,  however,  in  his  career,  as 
if  struck  with  a  sudden  recollection ;  and  presently,  turning 
round,  hobbled  off  down  the  street,  shaking  all  the  while  with 
rage,  and  muttering  between  his  teeth,  "  Won't  do — new  glass- 
es— thought  it  was  Gordon — d — d  good-for-nothing  salt  water 
Long  Tom." 

After  this  narrow  escape  we  proceeded  with  greater  caution, 
and  arrived  at  our  point  of  destination  in  safety.  There  were 
only  one  or  two  of  the  hands  on  board,  and  these  were  busy  for- 
ward, doing  something  to  the  forecastle  combings.  Captain 
Barnard,  we  knew  very  well,  was  engaged  at  Lloyd  and  Vreden- 
burgh's,  and  would  remain  there  until  late  in  the  evening,  so  we 
had  little  to  apprehend  on  his  account.  Augustus  went  first  up 
the  vessel's  side,  and  in  a  short  while  I  followed  him,  without 
being  noticed  by  the  men  at  work.  We  proceeded  at  once  into 
the  cabin,  and  found  no  person  there.  It  was  fitted  up  in  the 
most  comfortable  style — a  thing  somewhat  unusual  in  a  whaling- 
vessel.  There  were  four  very  excellent  state-rooms,  with  wide 
and  convenient  berths.  There  was  also  a  large  stove,  I  took 
notice,  and  a  remarkably  thick  and  valuable  carpet  covering  the 
floor  of  both  the  cabin  and  state-rooms.  The  ceiling  was  full 


26  NARRATIVE   OF 

seven  feet  high,  and,  m  short,  everything  appeared  of  a  more 
roomy  and  agreeable  nature  than  I  had  anticipated.  Augustus, 
however,  would  allow  me  but  little  time  for  observation,  insisting 
upon  the  necessity  of  my  concealing  myself  as  soon  as  possible. 
He  led  the  way  into  his  own  state-room,  which  was  on  the  star- 
board side  of  the  brig,  and  next  to  the  bulkheads.  Upon  enter 
ing,  he  closed  the  door  and  bolted  it.  I  thought  I  had  never 
seen  a  nicer  little  room  than  the  one  in  Avhich  I  now  found  my 
self.  It  was  about  ten  feet  long,  and  had  only  one  berth,  which, 
as  I  said  before,  was  wide  and  convenient.  In  that  portion  of 
the  closet  nearest  the  bulkheads  there  was  a  space  of  four  feet 
square,  containing  a  table,  a  chair,  and  a  set  of  hanging  shelves 
full  of  books,  chiefly  books  of  voyages  and  travels.  There  were 
many  other  little  comforts  in  the  room,  among  which  I  ought  not 
to  forget  a  kind  of  safe  or  refrigerator,  in  which  Augustus  pointed 
out  to  me  a  host  of  delicacies,  both  in  the  eating  and  drinking 
department. 

He  now  pressed  with  his  knuckles  upon  a  certain  spot  of  the 
carpet  in  one  corner  of  the  space  just  mentioned,  letting  me 
know  that  a  portion  of  the  flooring,  about  sixteen  inches  square, 
had  been  neatly  cut  out  and  again  adjusted.  As  he  pressed,  this 
portion  rose  up  at  one  end  sufficiently  to  allow  the  passage  of  his 
finger  beneath.  In  this  manner  he  raised  the  mouth  of  the  trap 
(to  which  the  carpet  was  still  fastened  by  tacks),  and  I  found 
that  it  led  into  the  after  hold.  He  next  lit  a  small  taper  by 
means  of  a  phosphorus  match,  and,  placing  the  light  in  a  dark 
lantern,  descended  with  •  it  through  the  opening,  bidding  me 
follow.  I  did  so,  and  he  then  pulled  the  cover  upon  the  hole, 
by  means  of  a  nail  driven  into  the  under  side — the  carpet,  of 
course,  resuming  its  original  position  on  the  floor  of  the  state- 
room, and  all  traces  of  the  aperture  being  concealed. 

The  taper  gave  out  so  feeble  a  ray  that  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  I  could  grope  my  way  through  the  confused 
mass  of  lumber  among  which  I  now  found  myself.  By  degrees, 
however,  my  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  gloom,  and  I  pro- 
ceeded with  less  trouble,  holding  on  to  the  skirts  of  my  friend's 
coat.  He  brought  me,  at  length,  after  creeping  and  winding 
through  innumerable  narrow  passages,  to  an  iron-boundbox,  such 


A,  GORDON  PYM.  27 

as  is  used  sometimes  for  packing  fine  earthenware.  It  was 
nearly  four  feet  high,  and  full  six  long,  but  very  narrow, 
Two  large  empty  oil-casks  lay  on  the  top  of  it,  and  above  these, 
again,  a  vast  quantity  of  straw  matting,  piled  up  as  high  as  the 
floor  of  the  cabin.  In  every  other  direction  around  was  wedged 
as  closely  as  possible,  even  up  to  the  ceiling,  a  complete  chaos 
of  almost  every  species  of  ship-furniture,  together  with  a  hetero- 
geneous medley  of  crates,  hampers,  barrels,  and  bales,  so  that  it 
seemed  a  matter  no  less  than  miraculous  that  we  had  discovered 
any  passage  at  all  to  the  box.  I  afterward  found  that  Augustus 
had  purposely  arranged  the  stowage  in  this  hold  with  a  view  to 
affording  me  a  thorough  concealment,  having  had  only  one 
assistant  in  the  labor,  a  man  not  going  out  in  the  brig. 

My  companion  now  showed  me  that  one  of  the  ends  of  the 
box  could  be  removed 'at  pleasure.  He  slipped  it  aside  and 
displayed  the  interior,  at  which  I  was  excessively  amused.  A 
mattress  from  one  of  the  cabin  berths  covered  the  whole  of  its 
bottom,  and  it  contained  almost  every  article  of  mere  comfort 
which  could  be  crowded  into  so  small  a  space,  allowing  me,  at 
the  same  time,  sufficient  room  for  my  accommodation,  either 
in  a  sitting  position  or  lying  at  full  length.  Among  other  things, 
there  were  some  books,  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  three  blankets,  a 
large  jug  full  of  water,  a  keg  of  sea-biscuit,  three  or  four  im- 
mense Bologna  sausages,  an  enormous  ham,  a  cold  leg  of  roast 
mutton,  and  half  a  dozen  bottles  of  cordials  and  liqueurs.  I 
proceeded  immediately  to  take  possession  of  my  little  apartment, 
and  this  with  feelings  of  higher  satisfaction,  I  am  sure,  than  any 
monarch  ever  experienced  upon  entering  a  new  palace.  Augus- 
tus now  pointed  out  to  me  the  method  of  fastening  the  open  end 
of  the  box,  and  then,  holding  the  taper  close  to  the  deck,  showed 
me  a  piece  of  dark  whipcord  lying  along  it.  This,  he  said, 
extended  from  my  hiding-place  throughout  all  the  necessary 
windings  among  the  lumber,  to  a  nail  which  was  driven  into  the 
deck  of  the  hold,  immediately  beneath  the  trapdoor  leading  into 
his  state-room.  By  means  of  this  cord  I  should  be  enabled 
readily  to  trace  my  way  out  without  his  guidance,  provided  any 
unlooked-for  accident  should  render  such  a  step  necessary,  He 
now  took  his  departure,  leaving  with  me  the  lantern,  together 


28  NARRATIVE  CXF 

with  a  copious  supply  of  tapers  and  phosphorus,  and  promising 
to  pay  me  a  visit  as  often  as  he  could  contrive  to  do  so  without 
observation.  This  was  on  the  seventeenth  of  June. 

I  remained  three  days  and  nights  (as  nearly  as  I  could  guess) 
in  my  hiding-place  without  getting  out  of  it  at  all,  except  twice  for 
the  purpose  of  stretching  my  limbs  by  standing  erect  between  two 
crates  just  opposite  the  opening.  During  the  whole  period  I  saw 
nothing  of  Augustus  ;  but  this  occasioned  me  little  uneasiness, 
as  I  knew  the  brig  was  expected  to  put  to  sea  every  hour,  and 
in  the  bustle  he  would  not  easily  find  opportunities  of  coming 
down  to  me.  At  length  I  heard  the  trap  open  and  shut,  and 
presently  he  called  in  a  low  voice,  asking  if  all  was  well,  and  if 
there  was  anything  I  wanted.  "  Nothing,"  I  replied  ;  "  I  am  as 
comfortable  as  can  be ;  when  will  the  brig  sail  ?"  "  She  will  be 
under  weigh  in  less  than  half  an  hour,"  he  answered.  "  I  came 
to  let  you  know,  and  for  fear  you  should  be  uneasy  at  my  ab- 
sence. I  shall  not  have  a  chance  of  coming  down  again  for 
some  time — perhaps  for  three  or  four  days  more.  All  is  going 
on  right  aboveboard.  After  I  go  up  and  close  the  trap,  do  you 
creep  along  by  the  whipcord  to  where  the  nail  is  driven  in.  You 
will  find  my  watch  there — it  may  be  useful  to  you,  as  you  have 
no  daylight  to  keep  time  by.  I  suppose  you  can't  tell  how  long 
you  have  been  buried — only  three  days — this  is  the  twentieth, 
I  would  bring  the  watch  to  your  box,  but  am  afraid  of  being 
missed."  With  this  he  went  up. 

In  about  an  hour  after  he  had  gone  I  distinctly  felt  the  brig 
in  motion,  and  congratulated  myself  upon  having  at  length 
fairly  commenced  a  voyage.  Satisfied  with  this  idea,  I  deter- 
mined to  make  my  mind  as  easy  as  possible,  and  await  the 
course  of  events  until  I  should  be  permitted  to  exchange  the 
box  for  the  more  roomy,  although  hardly  more  comfortable,  ac 
commodations  of  the  cabin.  My  first  care  was  to  get  the  watch. 
Leaving  the  taper  burning,  I  groped  along  in  the  dark,  following 
the  cord  through  windings  innumerable,  in  some  of  which  I 
discovered  that,  after  toiling  a  long  distance,  I  was  brought  back 
within  a  foot  or  two  of  a  former  position.  At  length  I  reached 
the  nail,  and  securing  the  object  of  my  journey,  returned  with  it 
in  safety.  I  now  looked  over  the  books  which  had  been  so 


A    fiORDON  PYM.  29 

tljoughtfully  provided,  and  selected  the  expedition  of  Lewis  and 
Clarke  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia.  With  this  I  amused 
myself  for  some  time,  when  growing  sleepy,  I  extinguished  the 
light  \vith  great  care,  and  soon  fell  into  a  sound  slumber. 

Upon  awaking  I  felt  strangely  confused  in  mind,  and  some 
lime  elapsed  before  I  could  bring  to  recollection  all  the  various 
circumstances  of  my  situation.  By  degrees,  however,  I  re- 
membered all.  Striking  a  light,  I  looked  at  the  watch ;  but  it 
was  run  down,  and  there  were,  consequently,  no  means  of  de- 
termining how  long  I  had  slept.  My  limbs  were  greatly  cramped, 
and  I  was  forced  to  relieve  them  by  standing  between  the  crates 
Presently  feeling  an  almost  ravenous  appetite,  I  bethought  my- 
self of  the  cold  mutton,  some  of  which  I  had  eaten  just  before 
going  to  sleep,  and  found  excellent.  What  was  my  astonish- 
ment at  discovering  it  to  be  in  a  state  of  absolute  putrefaction ! 
This  circumstance  occasioned  me  great  disquietude  ;  for,  con- 
necting it  with  the  disorder  of  mind  I  experienced  upon  awak- 
ing, I  began  to  suppose  that  I  must  have  slept  for  an  inordinately 
long  period  of  time.  The  close  atmosphere  of  the  hold  might 
have  had  something  to  do  with  this,  and  might,  in  the  end,  be 
productive  of  the  most  serious  results.  .My  head  ached  exces- 
sively ;  I  fancied  that  I  drew  every  breath  with  difficulty ;  and. 
in  short,  I  was  oppressed  with  a  multitude  of  gloomy  feelings. 
Still  I  could  not  venture  to  make  any  disturbance  by  opening 
the  trap  or  otherwise,  and,  having  wound  up  the  watch,  con- 
tci-ted  myself  as  well  as  possible. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  the  next  tedious  twenty-four  hours 
no  person  came  to  my  relief,  and  I  could  not  help  accusing 
Augustus  of  the  grossest  inattention.  What  alarmed  me  chiefly 
was,  tint  the  water  in  my  jug  was  reduced  to  about  half  a  pint, 
and  I  was  suffering  nluch  from  thirst,  having  eaten  freely  of 
the  Bologna  sausages  after  the  loss  of  my  mutton.  I  becarmi 
very  uneasy,  and  could  no  longer  take  any  interest  in  my  books. 
J  was  overpowered,  too,  with  a  desire  to  sleep,  yet  trembled  at 
the  thought  of  indulging  it,  lest  there  might  exist  some  perni- 
cious influence,  like  that  of  burning  charcoal,- in  the  confined  air 
of  the  hold.  In  the  meantime  the  roll  of  the  brig  told  me  that 
iv<>  wen;  fur  in  the  main  ocean,  and  a  dull  humming  sound. 


30  NARRATIVE  OF 

which  reached  my  ears  as   if  from  an  immense  distance,  oon« 
viriced  me  no  ordinary  gale  was  blowing.     I  could  not  imagine 
a  reason  for  the  absence  of   Augustus.      We  were  surely  far 
enough   advanced    on    our  voyage    to    allow  of  my    going    up. 
Some  accident  might  have  happened  to  him — but  I  could  think  of 
none  which  would  account  for  his  suffering  me  to  remain  so  long 
a  prisoner,  except,  indeed,  his  having  suddenly  died  or  fallen 
overboard,  and  upon  this  idea  I  could  not  dwell  with  any  degree 
of  patience.     It  was  possible  that  we   had  been  baflled  by  head 
winds,  and  were  still   in  the  near  vicinity  of  Nantucket.     This 
notion,  however,  I  was  forced  to  abandon  ;  for  such  being  the 
case,  the  brig  must  have  frequently  gone  about  ;  and  I  was  en- 
tirely satisfied,  from  her  continual   inclination  to  the  larboard, 
that  she  had  been  sailing  all  along  with  a  steady  breeze  on  her 
starboard  quarter.     Besides,  granting  that  we  were   still  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  island,  why  should  not  Augustus   have  vis- 
ited me  and  informed  me  of  the  circumstance  ?     Pondering  in 
this  manner  upon  the  difficulties  of  my  solitary  and    cheerless 
condition,  I  resolved  to  wait  yet  another  twenty-four  hours,  when, 
if  no  relief  were  obtained,  I  would  make  my  way  to  the  trap,  and 
endeavor  either  to  hold  a  parley  with  my  friend,  or  get  at  least  a 
little  fresh  air  through  the  opening,  and  a  further  supply  of  water 
from  his  stateroom.     While  occupied  with  this  thought,  however, 
I  fell,  in  spite  of  every  exertion  to  the  contrary,  into  a  state  of 
profound  sleep,  or  rather  stupor.    My  dreams  were  of  the  most 
terrific  description.     Every  species  of  calamity  and  horror  befell 
me.     Among  other  miseries,  I  was  smothered  to  death  between 
huge    pillows,  by  demons  of   the    most  ghastly  and    ferocious 
aspect.     Immense  serpents  held  me  in  their  embrace,  and  looked 
earnestly  in  my  face  with  their  fearfully  shining  eyes.     Then, 
deserts,  limitless,  and  of  the  most  forlorn  sfnd  awe-inspiring  char- 
•acter.  spread  themselves  out  before  me.     Immensely  tall  trunks 
of  trees,  gray  and  leafless,  rose  up  in  endless  succession  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach.      Their   roots    were    concealed   in  wide- 
spreading  morasses,  whose  dreary  water  lay  intensely  black,  still, 
and  altogether  terrible,  beneath.     And  the  strange  trees  seemed 
endowed  with  a  human  vitality,  and  waving  to  and  fro  their  skel- 
eton arms,  were  crying  to    the  silent    waters    for    mercy,  in  the 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  31 

shrill  and  piercing  accents  of  the  most  acute  agony  and  desp:iir 
The  scene  changed  ;  and  I  stood,  naked  and  alone,  amid  the 
Durning  sand-plains  of  Zahara.  At  my  feet  lay  crouched  a  fierce 
lion  of  the  tropics.  Suddenly  his  wild  eyes  opened  and  fell 
upon  me.  With  a  convulsive  bound  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  ami 
laid  bare  his  horrible  teeth.  In  another  instant  there  burst  from 
his  red  throat  a  roar  like  the  thunder  of  the  firmament,  and  I 
fell  impetuously  to  the  earth.  Stifling  in  a  paroxysm  of  terror, 
I  at  last  found  myself  partially  awake.  My  dream,  then,  was 
not  all  a  dream.  Now,  at  least,  I  was  in  possession  of  my  senses. 
The  paws  of  some  huge  and  real  monster  were  pressing  heavily 
upon  my  bosom — his  hot  breath  was  in  my  ear — and  his  white 
and  ghast^  fangs  were  gleaming  upon  me  through  the  gloom. 

Had  a  thousand  lives  hung  upon  the  movement  of  a  limb  or 
the  utterance  of  a  syllable,  I  could  have  neither  stirred  nor 
spoken.  The  beast,  whatever  it  was,  retained  his  position  with- 
out attempting  any  immediate  violence,  while  I  lay  in  an  utterly 
helpless,  and,  I  fancied,  a  dying  condition  beneath  him.  I  felt  that 
my  powers  of  body  and  mind  were  fast  leaving  me — in  a  word,  that 
I  was  perishing,  and  perishing  of  sheer  fright.  My  brain  swam— 
I  grew  deadly  sick — my  vision  failed — even  the  glaring  eyeballs 
above  me  grew  dim.  Making  a  last  strong  effort,  I  at  length 
breathed  a  faint  ejaculation  to  God,  and  resigned  myself  to  die. 
The  sound  of  my  voice  seemed  to  arouse  all  the  latent  fury  of 
the  animal.  He  precipitated  himself  at  full  length  upon  my 
body  ;  but  what  was  my  astonishment,  when,  with  a  long  and 
low  whine,  he  commenced  licking  my  face  and  hands  with  the 
greatest  eagerness,  and  with  the  most  extravagant  demonstra- 
tions of  affection  and  joy !  I  was  bewildered,  utterly  lost  in 
amazement — but  I  could  not  forget  the  peculiar  whine  of  my 
Newfoundland  dog  Tiger,  and  the  odd  manner  of  his  caresses  I 
well  knew.  It  was  he.  1  experienced  a  sudden  rush  of  blood 
to  my  temples — a  giddy  and  overpowering  sense  of  deliverance 
and  reanimation.  I  rose  hurriedly  from  the  mattress  upon  which 
I  had  been  lying,  and,  throwing  myself  upon  the  neck  of  my 
faithful  follower  and  friend,  relieved  the  long  oppression  of  my 
bosom  in  a  flood  of  the  most  passionate  tears. 

As  upon  a  former  occasion    »nv  conceptions  were  in  a  state 


32  NARRATIVE  OF 

of  the  greatest  indistinctness  and  confusion  after  leaving  ihfl 
mattress.  For  a  long  time  I  found  it  nearly  impossible  tu  con- 
nect any  ideas ;  but,  by  very  slow  degrees,  my  thinking  faculties 
returned,  and  I  again  called  to  memory  the  several  incidents  of 
my  condition.  For  the  presence  of  Tiger  I  tried  in  vain  to  ac 
count;  and  after  busying  myself  with  a  thousand  different  con- 
jectures respecting  him,  was  forced  to  content  myself  with  re- 
joicing that  he  was  with  me  to  share  my  dreary  solitude,  and 
render  me  comfort  by  his  caresses.  Most  people  love  their 
dogs,  but  for  Tiger  I  had  an  affection  far  more  ardent  than  com- 
mon ;  and  never,  certainly,  did  any  creature  more  truly  deserve 
it.  For  seven  years  he  had  been  my  inseparable  companion, 
and  in  a  multitude  of  instances  had  given  evidence  of  all  the 
noble  qualities  for  which  we  value  the  animal.  I  had  rescued 
him,  when  a  puppy,  from  the  clutches  of  a  malignant  little  vil- 
lain in  Nantucket,  who  was  leading  him,  with  a  rope  around  his 
neck,  to  the  water;  and  the  grown  dog  repaid  the  obligation, 
about  three  years  afterward,  by  saving  me  from  the  bludgeon  of 
a  street  robber. 

Getting  now  hold  of  the  watch,  I  found,  upon  applying  it  to 
my  ear,  that  it  had  again  run  down ;  but  at  this  I  was  not  at  all 
surprised,  being  convinced,  from  the  peculiar  state  of  my  feel- 
ings, that  I  had  slept,  as  before,  for  a  very  long  period  of  time ; 
how  long,  it  was  of  course  impossible  to  say.  I  was  burning  up 
with  fever,  and  my  thirst  was  almost  intolerable.  I  felt  about 
the  box  for  my  little  remaining  supply  of  water,  for  I  had  no 
light,  the  taper  having  burnt  to  the  socket  of  the  lantern,  and 
the  phosphorus-box  not  coming  readily  to  hand.  Upon  finding 
the  jug,  however,  I  discovered  it  to  be  empty — Tiger,  no  doubt, 
having  been  tempted  to  drink  it,  as  well  as  to  devour  the  rem- 
nant of  mutton,  the  bone  of  which  lay,  well  picked,  by  the  open- 
ing of  the  box.  The  spoiled  meat  I  could  well  spare,  but  my 
heart  sank  as  I  thought  of  the  water.  I  was  feeble  in  the  ex- 
treme, so  much  so  that  I  shook  all  over,  as  with  an  ague,  at  the 
slightest  movement  or  exertion.  To  add  to  my  troubles,  the  brig 
was  pitching  and  rolling  with  great  violence,  and  the  oil-casks 
which  lay  upon  my  box  were  in  momentary  danger  of  falling 
down,  so  as  to  block  up  the  only  way  of  ingress  u1  egress.  I 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  33 

felt,  also,  terrible  sufferings  from  sea-sickness.  These  considera- 
tions determined  me  to  make  my  way,  at  all  hazards,  to  the 
trap,  and  obtain  immediate  relief,  before  I  should  bo  incapaci- 
tated from  doing  so  altogether  Having  come  to  this  resolve,  I 
again  felt  about  for  the  phosphorus-box  and  tapers.  The  former 
I  found  after  some  little  trouble ;  but,  not  discovering  the  tapers 
as  soon  as  I  had  expected  (for  I  remembered  very  nearly  the 
spot  in  which  I  had  placed  them),  I  gave  up  the  search  for  the 
present,  and  bidding  Tiger  lie  quiet,  began  at  once  my  journey 
towards  the  trap. 

In  this  attempt  my  great  feebleness  became  more  than  ever 
apparent.  It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  I  could  crawl  along 
at  all,  and  very  frequently  my  limbs  sank  suddenly  from  be- 
neath me  ;  when,  falling  prostrate  on  my  face,  I  would  remain 
for  some  minutes  in  a  state  bordering  on  insensibility.  Still  I 
struggled  forward  by  slow  degrees,  dreading  every  moment  that 
I  should  swoon  amid  the  narrow  and  intricate  windings  of  the 
lumber,  in  which  event  I  had  nothing  but  death  to  expect  as  the 
result.  At  length,  upon  making  a  push  forward  with  all  the 
energy  I  could  command.  I  struck  my  forehead  violently  against 
the  sharp  corner  of  an  iron-bound  crate.  The  accident  only 
stunned  me  for  a  few  moments ;  but  I  found,  to  my  inexpressible 
grief,  that  the  quick  and  violent  roll  of  the  vessel  had  thrown 
the  crate  entirely  across  my  path,  so  as  effectually  to  block  up 
the  passage.  With  my  utmost  exertions  I  could  not  move  it  a 
single  inch  from  its  position,  it  being  closely  wedged  in  among 
the  surrounding  boxes  and  ship-furniture.  It  became  necessary, 
therefore,  enfeebled  as  I  was,  either  to  leave  the  guidance  of  the 
whipcord  and  seek  out  a  new  passage,  or  to  climb  over  the 
obstacle,  and  resume  the  path  on  the  other  side.  The  former 
alternative  presented  too  many  difficulties  and  dangers  to  be 
thought  of  withput  a  shudder.  In  my  present  weak  state  of  both 
mind  and  body,  I  should  infallibly  lose  my  way  if  I  attempted 
it.  and  perish  miserably  amid  the  dismal  and  disgusting  laby- 
rinths of  the  hold.  I  proceeded,  therefore,  without  hesitation, 
to  summon  up  all  my  remaining  strength  and  fortitude,  and  en- 
deavor, as  I  best  might,  to  clamber  over  the  crate. 

Upon  standing  erect,  with  this  end  in  view,  I  found  the  un- 


34  NARRATIVE  OF 

dertaking  even  a  more  serious  task  than  my  fears  had  led  me 
to  imagine.  On  each  side  of  the  narrow  passage  arose  a  com- 
plete wall  of  various  heavy  lumber,  which  the  least  blunder  on 
my  part  might  be  the  means  of  bringing  down  upon  my  head ; 
ur,  if  this  accident  did  not  occur,  the  path  might  be  effectually 
blocked  up  against  my  return  by  the  descending  mass,  as  it  was 
in  front  by  the  obstacle  there.-  The  crate  itself  was  a  long  and 
unwieldy  box,  upon  which  no  foothold  could  be  obtained.  In 
vain  I  attempted,  by  every  means  in  my  power,  to  reach  the 
top,  with  the  hope  of  being  thus  enabled  to  draw  myself  up. 
Had  I  succeeded  in  reaching  it,  it  is  certain  that  my  strength 
Avould  have  proved  utterly  inadequate  to  the  task  of  getting 
over,  and  it  was  better  in  every  respect  that  I  failed.  At  length, 
in  a  desperate  effort  to  force  the  crate  from  its  ground,  I  felt  a 
strong  vibration  in  the  side  next  me.  I  thrust  my  hand  eagerly 
to  the  edge  of  the  planks,  and  found  that  a  very  large  one  was 
loose.  With  my  pocket-knife  which,  luckily,  I  had  with  me,  I 
succeeded,  after  great  labor,  in  prying  it  entirely  off;  and,  get- 
ting through  the  aperture,  discovered,  to  my  exceeding  joy,  that 
there  were  no  boards  on  the  opposite  side — in  other  words,  that 
the  top  was  wanting,  it  being  the  bottom  through  which  I  had 
forced  my  way.  I  now  met  with  no  important  difficulty  in  pro- 
ceeding along  the  line  until  I  finally  reached  the  nail.  With  a 
beating  heart  I  stood  erect,  and  with  a  gentle  touch  pressed 
against  the  cover  of  the  trap.  It  did  not  rise  as  soon  as  I  had 
expected,  and  I  pressed  it  with  somewhat  more  determination, 
Btill  dreading  lest  some  other  person  than  Augustus  might  be 
in  his  state-room.  The  door,  however,  to  my  astonishment,  re- 
mained steady,  and  I  became  somewhat  uneasy,  for  I  knew  that 
it  had  formerly  required  little  or  no  effort  to  remove  it.  I  push- 
ed it  strongly — it  was  nevertheless  firm :  with  all  my  strength — 
it  still  did  not  give  way :  with  rage,  with  fury,  .with  despair — it 
set  at  defiance  my  utmost  efforts ;  and  it  was  evident,  from  the 
unyielding  nature  of  the  resistance,  that  the  hole  had  either 
been  discovered  and  effectually  nailed  up,  or  that  some  immense 
weight  had  been  placed  upon  it,  which  it  was  useless  to  think  of 
removing. 

My  sensations  were  those  of  extreme  horror  and  dismay,     In 


A.  GORDON  PVM.  35 

rain  I  attempted  to  reason  on  the  probable  cause  of  my  being 
thus  entombed.  I  could  summon  up  no  connected  chain  of  re- 
flection, and,  sinking  on  the  floor,  gave  way,  unresistingly,  to  the 
most  gloomy  imaginings,  in  which  the  dreadful  deaths  of  thirst, 
famine,  suffocation,  and  premature  interment,  crowded  upon  me 
as  the  prominent  disasters  to  be  encountered.  At  length  there 
returned  to  me  some  portion  of  presence  of  mind.  I  arose,  and 
felt  with  my  fingers  for  the  seams  or  cracks  of  the  aperture. 
Having  found  them,  I  examined  them  closely  to  ascertain  if 
they  emitted  any  light  from  the  state-room  ;  but  none  was  visi- 
ble. I  then  forced  the  pen-blade  of  my  knife  through  them,  until 
I  met  with  some  hard  obstacle.  Scraping  against  it,  I  discovered 
it  to  be  a  solid  mass  of  iron,  which,  from  its  peculiar  wavy  feel 
as  I  passed  the  blade  along  it,  I  concluded  to  be  a  chain-cable. 
The  only  course  now  left  me  was  to  retrace  my  way  to  the  box, 
and  there  either  yield  to  my  sad  fate,  or  try  so  to  tranquilize 
my  mind  as  to  admit  of  my  arranging  some  plan  of  escape.  1 
immediately  set  about  the  attempt,  and  succeeded,  after  innu- 
merable difficulties,  in  getting  back.  As  I  sank,  utterly  ex- 
hausted, upon  the  mattress,  Tiger  threw  himself  at  full  length 
by  my  side,  and  seemed  as  if  desirous,  by  his  caresses,  of  con- 
soling me  in  my  troubles,  and  urging  me  to  bear  them  with  for- 
titude. 

The  singularity  of  his  behavior  at  length  forcibly  arrested 
my  attention.  After  licking  my  face  and  hands  for  some  mi- 
nutes, he  would  suddenly  cease  doing  so,  and  utter  a  low  whine. 
Upon  reaching  out  my  hand  towards  him,  I  then  invarably  found 
him  lying  on  his  back,  with  his  paws  uplifted.  This  conduct,  so 
frequently  repeated,  appeared  strange,  and  I  could  in  no  manner 
account  for  it.  As  the  dog  seemed  distressed,  I  concluded  that 
he  had  received  some  injury ;  and,  taking  his  paws  in  my  hands, 
I  examined  them  one  by  one,  but  found  no  sign  of  any  hurt.  I 
then  supposed  him  hungry,  and  gave  him  a  large  piece  of  ham, 
which  he  devoured  with  avidity — afterward,  however,  resuming 
his  extraordinary  manoeuvres.  I  now  imagined  that  he  was 
suffering,  like  myself,  the  torments  of  thirst,  and  was  about 
adopting  this  conclusion  as  the  true  one,  when  the  idea  occurred 
to  me  that  I  had  as  yet  only  exi><v>ined  his  paws,  and  that  then- 


36  NARRATIVE  OF 

might  possibly  be  a  wound  upon  some  portion  of  hib  body  or  head. 
The  latter  I  felt  carefully  over,  but  found  nothing.  On  passing 
my  hand,  however,  along  his  back,  I  perceived  a  slight  erection 
of  the  hair  extending  completely  across  it.  Probing  this  with 
.u  y  finger,  I  discovered  a  string,  and  tracing  it  up,  found  that  it 
encircled  the  whole  body.  Upon  a  closer  scrutiny,  I  came 
across  a  small  slip  of  what  had  the  feeling  of  letter  paper, 
through  which  the  string  had  been  fastened  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  bring  it  immediately  beneath  the  left  shoulder  of  the  animal. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  thought  instantly  occurred  to  me  that  the  paper  was  a 
note  from  Augustus,  and  that  some  unaccountable  accident  having 
happened  to  prevent  his  relieving  me  from  my  dungeon,  he  had 
devised  this  method  of  acquainting  me  with  the  true  state  of 
affairs.  Trembling  with  eagerness,  I  now  commenced  another 
search  for  my  phosphorus  matches  and  tapers.  I  had  a  confused 
recollection  of  having  put  them  carefully  away  just  before  falling 
asleep ;  and,  indeed,  previously  to  my  last  journey  to  the  trap,  I 
had  been  able  to  remember  the  exact  spot  where  I  had  deposited 
them.  But  now  I  endeavored  in  vain  to  call  it  to  inind,  and 
busied  myself  for  a  full  hour  in  a  fruitless  and  vexatious  search 
for  the  missing  articles  ;  never,  surely,  was  there  a  more  tanta- 
lizing state  of  anxiety  and  suspense.  At  length,  while  groping 
about,  with  my  head  close  to  the  ballast,  near  the  opening  of  the 
box,  and  outside  of  it,  I  perceived  a  faint  glimmering  of  light  in 
the  direction  of  the  steerage.  Greatly  surprised,  I  endeavored 
to  make  my  way  towards  it,  as  it  appeared  to  be  but  a  few  feet 
from  my  position.  Scarcely  had  I  moved  with  this  intention, 
when  I  lost  sight  of  the  glimmer  entirely,  and,  before  I  could 
bring  it  into  view  again,  was  obliged  to  feel  along  by  the  box 
until  I  had  exactly  resumed  my  original  situation.  Now, 
moving  my  head  with  caution  to  and  fro,  I  found  that,  by  pro- 
ceeding slowly,  with  great  care,  in  an  opposite  direction  to  that 
in  which  I  had  at  first  started,  I  was  enabled  to  draw  near  tho 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  37 

light,  still  keeping  it  in  view.  Presently  I  came  dhectly  upon 
it  (huving  squeezed  my  way  through  innumerable  narrow  wind- 
ings), and  found  that  it  proceeded  from  some  fragments  of  my 
matches  lying  in  an  empty  barrel  turned  upon  its  side.  I  was 
wondering  how  they  came  in  such  a  place,  when  my  hand  fell 
upon  two  or  three  pieces  of  taperwax,  which  had  been  evidently 
mumbled  by  the  dog.  - 1  concluded  at  once  that  he  had  devoured 
The  whole  of  my  supply  of  candles,  and  I  felt  hopeless  of  being 
ever  able  to  read  the  note  of  Augustus.  The  small  remnants  of 
the  wax  were  so  mashed  up  among  other  rubbish  in  the  barrel, 
that  I  despaired  of  deriving  any  service  from  them,  and  left  them 
as  they  were.  The  phosphorus,  of  which  there  was  only  a  speck 
or  two,  I  gathered  up  as  well  as  I  could,  and  returned  with  it, 
after  much  difficulty,  to  my  box,  where  Tiger  had  all  the  while 
remained. 

What  to  do  next  I  could  not  tell.  The  hold  was  so  intensely 
dark  that  I  could  not  see  my  hand,  however  close  I  would  hold 
it  to  my  face.  The  white  slip  of  paper  could  barely  be  discerned, 
and  not  even  that  when  I  looked  at  it  directly ;  by  turning  the 
exterior  portions  of  the  retina  towards  it,  that  is  to  say,  by  sur- 
veying it  slightly  askance,  I  found  that  it  became  in  some 
measure  perceptible.  Thus  the  gloom  of  my  prison  may  be  ima- 
gined, and  the  note  of  my  friend,  if  indeed  it  were  a  note  from 
him,  seemed  only  likely  to  throw  me  into  further  trouble,  by 
disquieting  to  no  purpose  my  already  enfeebled  and  agitated 
mind.  In  vain  I  revolved  in  my  brain  a  multitude  of  absurd 
expedients  for  procuring  light — such  expedients  precisely  as 
a  man  in  the  perturbed  sleep  occasioned  by  opium  would  be 
apt  to  fall  upon  for  a  similar  purpose — each  and  all  of  which 
appear  by  turns  to  the  dreamer  the  most  reasonable  and  the 
most  preposterous  of  conceptions,  just  as  the  reasoning  or 
imaginative  faculties  flicker,  alternately,  one  above  the  other. 
At  last  an  idea  occurred  to  me  which  seemed  rational,  and  which 
gave  me  cause  to  wonder,  very  justly,  that  I  had  not  entertained 
it  before.  I  placed  the  slip  of  paper  on  the  back  of  a  book,  and, 
collecting  the  fragments  of*  the  phosphorus  matches  which  I  had 
brought  from  the  barrel,  laid  them  together  upon  the  paper.  1 
then,  with  the  palm  of  my  hand,  rubbed  the  whole  over  quickly ; 


38  NARRATIVE  OF 

yet  steadily.  A  clear  light  diffused  itself  immediately  throughout 
the  whole  surface ;  and  had  there  been  any  writing  upon  it.  I 
should  not  have  experienced  the  least  difficulty,  I  am  sure,  in 
reading  it.  Not  a  syllable  was  there,  however — nothing  but  a 
dreary  and  unsatisfactory  blank  ;  the  illumination  died  away  in 
a  few  seconds,  and  my  heart  died  away  within  me  as  it  went. 

I  have  before  stated  more  than  once  that  my  intellect,  for  some 
period  prior  to  this,  had  been  in  a  condition  nearly  bordering  on 
idiocy.  There  were,  to  be  sure,  momentary  intervals  of  perfect 
sanity,  and,  now  and  then,  even  of  energy  ;  but  these  were  few. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  I  had  been,  for  many  days  certain- 
ly, inhaling  the  almost  pestilential  atmosphere  of  a  close  hole  in 
a  whaling  vessel,  and  a  long  portion  of  that  time  but  scantily 
supplied  with  water.  For  the  last  fourteen  or  fifteen  hours  I  had 
none — nor  had  I  slept  during  that  time.  Salt  provisions  of  the 
most  exciting  kind  had  been  my  chief,  and,  indeed,  since  the  loss 
of  the  mutton,  my  only  supply  of  food,  wi:h  the  exception  of  the 
sea-biscuit ;  and  these  latter  were  utterly  useless  to  me,  as  they 
were  too  dry  and  hard  to  be  swallowed  in  the  swollen  and  parched 
condition  of  my  throat.  I  was  now  in  a  high  state  of  fever,  and 
in  every  respect  exceedingly  ill.  This  will  account  for  the  fact 
that  many  miserable  hours  of  despondency  elapsed  after  my  last 
adventure  with  the  phosphorus,  before  the  thought  suggested  it- 
self that  I  had  examined  only  one  side  of  the  paper.  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  describe  my  feelings  of  rage  (for  I  believe  I  was 
more  angry  than  anything  else)  when  the  egregious  oversight  I 
had  committed  flashed  suddenly  upon  my  perception.  The 
blunder  itself  would  have  been  unimportant,  had  not  my  own 
folly  and  impetuosity  rendered  it  otherwise — in  my  disappoint- 
ment at  not  finding  some  words  upon  the  slip,  I  had  childishly 
torn  it  in  pieces  and  thrown  it  away,  it  was  impossible  to  say  where. 
From  the  worst  part  of  this  dilemma  I  was  relieved  by  the 
sagacity  of  Tiger.  Having  got,  after  a  long  search,  a  small 
piece  oi  the  note,  I  put  it  to  the  dog's  nose,  and  endeavored  to 
make  him  understand  that  he  must  bring  me  the  rest  of  it.  To 
my  astonishment,  (for  I  had  taught  him  none  of  the  usual  tricks 
for  which  his  breed  are  famous),  he  seemed  to  enter  at  once  into 
my  meaning,  and,  rummaging  about  for  a  few  moments,  soon 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  39 

found  another  considerable  portion.    Bringing  me  this,  he  paused 
a  while,  and,  rubbing  his  nose  against  my  hand,  appeared  to  be 
waiting  for  my  approval  of  what  he  had  done.     I  patted  him  on 
the  head,  when  he  immediately  made  off  again.     It  was  now 
some  minutes  before  he  came  back — but  when  he  did  come,  he 
brought  with  him  a  large  slip,  which  proved  to  be  all  the  paper 
missing — it  having  been  torn,  it  seems,  only  into  three  pieces. 
Luckily,  I  had  no  trouble  in  finding  what  few  fragments  of  the 
phosphorus  were  left — being  guided  by  the  indistinct  glow  one 
or  two  of  the  particles  still  emitted.     My  difficulties  had  taught 
me  the  necessity  of  caution,  and  I  now  took  time  to  reflect  upon 
what  I  was  about  to  do.     It  was  very  probable,  I  considered, 
that  some  words  were  written  upon  that  side  of  the  paper  which 
had  not  been  examined — but  which  side  was  that  ?     Fitting  the 
pieces   together  gave  me  no  clue  in  this  respect,  although  it 
assured  me  that  the  words  (if  there  were  any)  would  be  found 
all  on  one  side,  and  connected  in  a  proper  manner,  as  written. 
There  was   the  greater   necessity  of  ascertaining   the  point  in 
question  beyond  a  doubt,  as  the  phosphorus  remaining  would  be 
altogether  insufficient  for  a  third  Attempt,  should  I  fail  in  the 
one  I  was  now  about  to  make.     I  placed  the  paper  on  a  book  as 
before,  and  sat  for  some  minutes  thoughtfully  revolving  the  mat- 
ter over  in  my  mind.     At  last  I  thought  it  barely  possible  that 
the  written   side  might  have  some  unevenness  on  its   surface, 
which  a  delicate  sense  of  feeling  might  enable  me  to  detect.     I 
determined  to  make  the  experiment,  and  passed  my  finger  very 
carefully  over  the  side  which  first  presented  itself — nothing,  how- 
ever, was  perceptible,  and  I  turned  the  paper,  adjusting  it  on 
the  book.     I  now  again  carried  my  forefinger  cautiously  along, 
when  I  was  aware  of  an  exceedingly  slight,  but  still  discernible 
glow,  which  followed  as  it  proceeded.     This,  I  knew,  must  arise 
from  some  very  minute  remaining  particles  of  the  phosphorus 
with  which  I  had  covered  the  paper  in  my  previous  attempt. 
The  other,  or  under  side,  then,  was  that  on  which  lay  the  writing, 
if  writing  there  should  finally  prove  to  be.     Again  I  turned  the 
note,  and  went  to  work  as  I  had   previously  done.     Having 
rubbed  in  the  phosphorus,  a  brilliancy  ensued  as  before — but 
this  time  several  lines  of  MS.  in  a  large  hand,  and  apparently 


40  NARRATIVE  OF 

in  red  ink,  became  distinctly  visible.  Tht  g  immer,  although 
sufficiently  bright,  was  but  momentary.  Still,  had  I  not  been 
too  greatly  excited,  there  would  have  betn  ample  time  enough 
for  me  to  peruse  the  whole  three  sentences  before  me-— for  I 
saw  there  were  three.  In  my  anxiety,  however,  to  read  all  at 
once,  I  succeeded  only  in  reading  the  seven  concluding  words, 
which  thus  appeared — "blood — your  life  depends  upon  lying 
dose" 

Had  I  been  able  to  ascertain  the  entire  contents  of  the  note — • 
the  full  meaning  of  the  admonition  which  my  friend  had  thus 
attempted  to  convey,  that  admonition,  even  although  it  should 
have  revealed  a  story  of  disaster  the  most  unspeakable,  could 
not,  I  am  firmly  convinced,  have  imbued  my  mind  with  one  tithe 
of  the  harrowing  and  yet  indefinable  horror  with  which  I  was 
inspired  by  the  fragmentary  warning  thus  received.  And  "  blood," 
too,  that  word  of  all  words — so  rife  at  all  times  with  mystery, 
and  suffering,  and  terror — how  trebly  full  of  import  did  it  now 
appear — how  chillily  and  heavily  (disjointed,  as  it  thus  was,  from 
any  foregoing  words  to  qualify  or  render  it  distinct)  did  its  vague 
syllables  fall,  amid  the  deep  gloom  of  my  prison,  into  the  inner- 
most recesses  of  my  soul ! 

Augustus  had,  undoubtedly,  good  reasons  for  wishing  me  to 
remain  concealed,  and  I  formed  a  thousand  surmises  as  to  what 
they  could  be — but  I  could  think  of  nothing  affording  a  satis- 
factory solution  of  the  mystery.  Just  after  returning  from  my 
last  journey  to  the  trap,  and  before  my  attention  had  been  other- 
wise directed  by  the  singular  conduct  of  Tiger,  I  had  come  to 
the  resolution  of  making  myself  heard  at  all  events  by  those  on 
board,  or,  if  I  could  not  succeed  in  this  directly,  of  trying  to  cut 
my  way  through  the  orlop  deck.  The  half  certainty  which  I 
felt  of  being  able  to  accomplish  one  of  these  two  purposes  in  the 
last  emergency,  had  given  me  courage  (which  I  should  not  other- 
wise have  had)  to  endure  the  evils  of  my  situation.  The  few 
words  I  had  been  able  to  read,  however,  had  cut  me  off  from 
these  final  resources,  and  I  now,  for  the  first  time,  felt  all  the 
misery  of  my  fate.  In  a  paroxysm  of  despair  I  threw  myself 
again  upon  the  mattress,  where,  for  about  the  period  of  a  day 


A    GORDON  PYM  41 

and  night,  I  lay  in  a  kind  of  stupor,  relieved  only  by  momentary 
intervals  of  reason  and  recollection. 

At  length  I  once  more  arose,  and  busied  myself  in  reflection 
upon  the  horrors  which  encompassed  me.  For  another  twenty- 
four  hours  it  was  barely  possible  that  I  might  exist  without 
water — for  a  longer  time  I  could  not  do  so.  During  the  first 
portion  of  my  imprisonment  I  had  made  free  use  of  the  cordials 
with  which  Augustus  had  supplied  me,  but  they  only  served  to 
excite  fever,  without  in  the  least  degree  assuaging  my  thirst.  I 
had  now  only  about  a  gill  left,  and  this  was  of  a  species  of 
strong  peach  liqueur  at  which  my  stomach  revolted.  The  sau- 
sages were  entirely  consumed ;  of  the  ham  nothing  remained 
but  a  small  piece  of  the  skin ;  and  all  the  biscuit,  except  a  few 
fragments  of  one,  had  been  eaten  by  Tiger.  To  add  to  my 
troubles,  I  found  that  my  headache  was  increasing  momentarily, 
and  with  it  the  species  of  delirium  which  had  distressed  me  more 
or  less  since  my  first  falling  asleep.  For  some  hours  past  it  had 
been  with  the  greatest  difficulty  I  could  breathe  at  all,  and  now 
each  attempt  at  so  doing  was  attended  with  the  most  distressing 
spasmodic  action  of  the  chest.  But  there  was  still  another  and 
very  different  source  of  disquietude,  and  one,  indeed,  whose 
harassing  terrors  had  been  the  chief  means  of  arousing  me  to 
exertion  from  my  stupor  on  the  mattress.  It  arose  from  the  de- 
meanor of  the  dog. 

I  first  observed  an  alteration  in  his  conduct  while  rubbing  m 
the  phosphorus  on  the  paper  in  my  last  attempt.  As  I  rubbed, 
he  ran  his  nose  against  my  hand  with  a  slight  snarl ;  but  I  was 
too  greatly  excited  at  the  time  to  pay  much  attention  to  the  cir- 
cumstance. Soon  afterward,  it  will  be  remembered,  I  threw 
myself  on  the  mattress,  and  fell  into  a  species  of  lethargy.  Pre- 
sently 1  became  aAvare  of  a  singular  hissing  sound  close  at  my 
ears,  and  discovered  it  to  proceed  from  Tiger,  who  was  panting 
and  wheezing  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  apparent  excitement,  his 
eyeballs  flashing  fiercely  through  the  gloom.  I  spoke  to  him, 
when  he  replied  with  a  low  growl,  and  then  remained  quiet. 
Presently  I  relapsed  into  my  stupor,  from  which  I  was  again 
awakened  in  a  similar  manner.  This  was  repeated  three  or  four 
times,  until  finally  his  behavior  inquired  me  with  so  great  a  de- 


42  NARRATIVE   OF 

gree  of  f3h.r,  that  I  became  fully  aroused.  He  was  now  lying 
close  by  the  door  of  the  box,  snarling  fearfully,  although  in  a 
kind  of  under-tone,  and  grinding  his  teeth  as  if  strongly  con- 
vulsed. I  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  want  of  water  or  the 
confined  atmosphere  of  the  hold  had  driven  him  mad,  and  I  was 
at  a  loss  what  course  to  pursue.  I  could  not  endure  the  thought 
of  killing  him,  yet  it  seemed  absolutely  necessary  for  my  own 
safety.  I  could  distinctly  perceive  his  eyes  fastened  upon  me 
with  an  expression  of  the  most  deadly  animosity,  and  I  expected 
every  instant  that  he  would  attack  me.  At  last  1  could  endure 
my  terrible  situation  no  longer,  and  determined  to  make  my  way 
from  the  box  at  all  hazards,  and  dispatch  him,  if  his  opposition 
should  render  it  necessary  for  me  to  do  so.  To  get  out,  I  had  to 
pass  directly  over  his  body,  and  he  already  seemed  to  anticipate 
my  design — raising  himself  upon  his  fore-legs  (as  I  perceived 
by  the  altered  position  of  his  eyes),  and  displayed  the  whole  of 
his  white  fangs,  which  were  easily  discernible.  I  took  the  re- 
mains of  the  ham-skin,  and  the  bottle  containing  the  liqueur,  and 
secured  them  about  my  person,  together  with  a  large  carving 
knife  which  Augustus  had  left  me — then,  folding  my  cloak  as 
closely  around  me  as  possible,  I  made  a  movement  towards  the 
mouth  of  the  box.  No  sooner  did  I  do  this,  than  the  dog  sprang 
with  a  lond  growl  towards  my  throat.  The  whole  weight  of  his 
body  struck  me  on  the  right  shoulder,  and  I  fell  violently  to  the 
left,  while  the  enraged  animal  passed  entirely  over  me.  I  had 
fallen  upon  my  knees,  with  my  head  buried  among  the  blankets, 
and  these  protected,  me  from  a  second  furious  assault,  during 
which  I  felt  the  sharp  teeth  pressing  vigorously  upon  the  woollen 
which  enveloped  my  neck — yet,  luckily,  without  being  able  to 
penetrate  all  the  folds.  I  was  now  beneath  the  dog,  and  a  few 
moments  would  place  me  completely  in  his  power.  Despair 
gave  me  strength,  and  I  rose  boldly  up,  shaking  him  from  me 
by  main  force,  and  dragging  with  me  the  blankets  from  the  mat- 
tress. These  I  now  threw  over  him,  and  before  he  could  extri- 
cate himself,  I  had  got  through  the  door  and  closed  it  effectually 
against  his  pursuit.  In  this  struggle,  however,  I  had  been  forced 
to  drop  the  morsel  of  ham-skin,  and  I  now  found  my  whole  stock 
of  provisions  -educed  to  a  single  gill  of  liqueur,  As  this  rcfl.ec- 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  43 

lion  crossed  my  mind,  1  felt  myseF  actuated  by  one  of  those  fits 
of  perverseuess  which  might  be  supposed  to  influence  a  spoiled 
child  in  similar  circumstances,  and,  raising  the  bottle  to  my  lips, 
I  drained  it  to  the  last  drop,  and  dashed  it  furiously  upon  the 
floor. 

Scarcely  had  the  echo  of  the  crash  died  away,  when  I  heard 
my  name  pronounced  in  an  eager  but  subdued  voice,  issuing 
from  the  direction  of  the  steerage.  So  unexpected  was  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  and  so  intense  was  the  emotion  excited  within 
me  by  the  sound,  that  I  endeavored  in  vain  to  repl.y.  My  pow- 
ers of  speech  totally  failed,  and,  in  an  agony  of  terror  lest  my 
friend  should  conclude  me  dead,  and  return  without  attempting 
to  reach  me,  I  stood  up  between  the  crates  near  the  door  of  the 
box,  trembling  convulsively,  and  gasping  and  struggling  for 
utterance.  Had  a  thousand  worlds  depended  upon  a  syllable,  I 
could  not  have  spoken  it.  There  was  a  slight  movement  now 
audible  among  the  lumber  somewhere  forward  of  my  station. 
The  sound  presently  grew  less  distinct,  then  again  less  so,  and 
still  less.  Shall  I  ever  forget  my  feelings  at  this  moment?  He 
was  going — my  friend,  my  companion,  from  whom  I  had  a  right 
to  expect  so  much — he  was  going — he  would  abandon  me — he 
was  gone !  He  would  leave  me  to  perish  miserably,  to  expire 
in  the  most  horrible  and  loathsome  of  dungeons — and  one  word, 
one  little  syllable,  would  save  me — yet  that  single  syllable  I 
could  not  utter !  I  felt,  I  am  sure,  more  than  ten  thousand  times 
the  agonies  of  death  itself.  My  brain  reeled,  and  I  fell,  deadly 
sick,  against  the  end  of  the  box. 

As  I  fell,  the  carving-knife  was  shaken  out  from  the  waist 
band  of  my  pantaloons,  and  dropped  with  a  rattling  sound  to  the 
floor.  Never  did  any  strain  of  the  richest  melody  come  so 
sweetly  to  my  ears  !  With  the  intensest  anxiety  I  listened  to 
ascertain  the  effect  of  the  noise  upon  Augustus — for  I  knew  that 
the  person  who  called  my  name  could  be  no  one  but  himself. 
All  was  silent  for  some  moments.  At  length  I  again  heard  the 
word  Arthur  !  repeated  in  a  low  tone,  and  one  full  of  hesitation. 
Reviving  hope  loosened  at  once  my  powers  of  speech,  and  I  now 
screamed,  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  <! Augustus!  ih^  Augustus!" 
"  Hush '.  for  God's  sake  be  silent !"  he  replied,  in  a  voice  trerab- 


44  NARRATIVE  OF 

ling  with  agitation  ;  "  I  will  be  with  you  immediately — as  soon 
as  I  can  make  my  way  through  the  hold."  For  a  long  time  I 
heard  him  moving  among  the  lumber,  and  every  moment  seemed 
to  me  an  age.  At  length  I  felt  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  and 
he  placed,  at  the  same  moment,  a  bottle  of  water  to  my  lips. 
Those  only  who  have  been  suddenly  redeemed  from  the  jaws  of 
the  tomb,  or  who  have  known  the  insufferable  torments  of  thirst 
under  circumstances  as  aggravated  as  those  which  encompassed 
me  in  my  dreary  prison,  can  form  any  idea  of  the  unutterable 
transports  which  that  one  long  draught  of  the  richest  of  all  phy- 
sical luxuries  afforded. 

When  I  had  in  some  degree  satisfied  my  thirst,  Augustus  pro- 
duced from  his  pocket  three  or  four  cold  boiled  potatoes,  which  I 
devoured  with  the  greatest  avidity.  He  had  brought  with  him 
a  light  in  a  dark  lantern,  and  the  grateful  rays  afforded  me 
scarcely  less  comfort  than  the  food  and  drink.  But  I  was  impa- 
tient to  learn  the  cause  of  his  protracted  absence,  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  recount  what  had  happened  on  board  during  my  incar- 
ceration. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  brig  put  to  sea,  as  I  had  supposed,  in  about  an  hou* 
after  he  had  left  the  watch.  This  was  on  the  twentieth  of  June. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  I  had  then  been  in  the  hold  for  three 
days ;  and,  during  this  period,  there  was  so  constant  a  bustle  on 
board,  and  so  much  running  to  and  fro,  especially  in  the  cabin 
and  state-rooms,  that  he  had  had  no  chance  of  visiting  me  without 
the  risk  of  having  the  secret  of  the  trap  discovered.  When  at 
length  he  did  come,  I  had  assured  him  that  I  was  doing  as  well 
as  possible  ;  and,  therefore,  for  the  two  next  days  he  felt  but 
little  uneasiness  on  my  account — still,  however,  watching  an  op- 
portunity of  going  down.  It  was  not  until  the  fourth  day  that 
he  found  one.  Several  times  during  this  interval  he  had  madii 
ap  his  mind  to  let  his  fal.her  know  of  the  adventure  and  have  me 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  45 

come  up  at  (nee  ;  but  we  were  still  within  reaching  distance  of 
Nant  ticket,  and  it  was  doubtful,  f:om  some  expression?  which  had 
escaped  Captain  Barnard,  whether  he  would  not  immediately  put 
back  if  he  discovered  me  to  be  on  board.  Besides,  upon  thinking 
the  matter  over,  Augustus,  so  he  told  me,  could  not  imagine  that  • 
I  was  in  immediate  want,  or  that  I  would  hesitate,  in  such  case, 
to  make  myself  heard  at  the  trap.  When,  therefore,  he  consi- 
dered everything,  he  concluded  to  let  me  stay  until  he  could 
meet  with  an  opportunity  of  visiting  me  unobserved.  This,  as  I 
said  before,  did  not  occur  uutil  the  fourth  day  after  his  bringing 
me  the  watch,  and  the  seventh  since  I  had  first  entered  the  hold. 
He  then  went  down  without  taking  with  him  any  water  or  provi- 
sions, intending  in  the  first  place  merely  to  call  my  attention,  and 
get  me  to  come  from  the  box  to  the  trap — when  he  would  go  up 
to  the  state-room  and  thence  hand  me  down  a  supply.  When  he 
descended  for  this  purpose  he  found  that  I  was  asleep,  for  it  seems 
that  I  was  snoring  very  loudly.  From  all  the  calculations  I  can 
make  on  the  subject,  this  must  have  been  the  slumber  into  which 
I  fell  just  after  my  return  from  the  trap  with  the  watch,  and 
which,  consequently,  must  have  lasted  for  more  than  three  entire 
days  and  nights  at  the  very  least.  Latterly,  I  have  had  reason, 
both  from  my  own  experience  and  the  assurance  of  others,  to  be 
acquainted  with  the  strong  soporific  effects  of  the  stench  arising 
from  old  fish-oil  when  closely  confined ;  and  when  I  think  of  the 
condition  of  the  hold  in  which  I  was  imprisoned,  and  the  long 
period  during  which  the  brig  had  been  used  as  a  whaling  vessel, 
I  am  more  inclined  to  wonder  that  I  awoke  at  all,  after  once 
fulling  asleep,  than  that  I  should  have  slept  uninterruptedly  foi 
the  period  specified  above. 

Augustus  called  to  me  at  first  in  a  low  voice  and  without 
closing  the  trap — but  I  made  him  no  reply.  He  then  shut  the 
trap,  and  spoke  to  me  in  a  louder,  and  finally  in  a  very  loud  tone 
— still  I  continued  to  snore.  He  was  now  at  a  loss  what  to  do 
It  would  take  him  some  time  tc  make  his  way  through  the  lumber 
to  my  box,  and  in  the  mean  while  his  absence  would  be  noticed 
by  Captain  Barnard,  who  had  occasion  for  his  services  every 
minute,  in  arranging  and  copying  papers  connected  with  the  bu- 
siness of  the  voyage  Pie  determined,  therefore,  upon  reflection 


46  NARRATIVE  OF 

to  ascend,  and  await  another  opportunity  of  visiting  me.  He 
was  the  more  easily  induced  to  this  resolve,  as  my  slumber  ap- 
peared to  be  of  the  most  tranquil  nature,  and  he  could  not  sup- 
pose that  I  had  undergone  any  incovenience  from  my  incar- 
ceration. He  had  just  made  up  his  mind  on  these  points  when 
his  attention  was  arrested  by  an  unusual  bustle,  the  sound  of 
which  proceeded  apparently  from  the  cabin.  He  sprang  through 
the  trap  as  quickly  as  possible,  closed  it,  and  threw  open  the 
door  of  his  stateroom.  No  sooner  had  he  put  his  foot  over  the 
threshold  than  a  pistol  flashed  in  his  face,  and  he  was  knocked 
down,  at  the  same  moment,  by  a  blow  from  a  handspike. 

A  strong  hand  held  him  on  the  cabin  floor,  with  a  tight  grasp 
upon  his  throat ;  still  he  was  able  to  see  what  was  going  on 
around  him.  His  father  was  tied  hand  and  foot,  and  lying  along 
the  steps  of  the  companion-way,  with  his  head  down,  and  a  deep 
wound  in  the  forehead,  from  which  the  blood  was  flowing  in  a 
continued  stream.  He  spoke  not  a  word,  and  was  apparently 
dying.  Over  him  stood  the  first  mate,  eying  him  with  an  ex- 
pression of  fiendish  derision,  and  deliberately  searching  his  pock- 
ets, from  which  he  presently  drew  forth  a  large  wallet  and  a 
chronometer.  Seven  of  the  crew  (among  whom  was  the  cook, 
a  negro)  were  rummaging  the  state-rooms  on  the  lai'board  for 
arms,  where  they  soon  equipped  themselves  with  muskets  and 
ammunition.  Besides  Augustus  and  Captain  Barnard,  there 
were  nine  men  altogether  in  the  cabin,  and  these  among  the 
most  ruffianly  of  the  brig's  company.  The  villains  now  went 
upon  deck,  taking  my  friend  with  them,  after  having  secured  his 
arms  behind  his  back.  They  proceeded  straight  to  the  forecas- 
tle, which  was  fastened  down — two  of  the  mutineers  standing  by 
it  with  axes — two  also  at  the  main  hatch.  The  mate  called  out 
in  a  loud  voice — "  Do  you  hear  there  below  ?  tumble  up  with 
you,  one  by  one — now,  mark  that — and  no  grumbling !"  It  was 
i,ome  minutes  before  any  one  appeared; — at  last  an  Englishman, 
who  had  shipped  as  a  raw  hand,  came  up,  weeping  piteously, 
and  entreating  the  mate,  in  the  most  humble  manner,  to  spare 
his  life.  The  only  reply  was  a  blow  on  the  forehead  from  an 
axe.  The  poor  fellow  fell  to  the  deck,  without  a  groan,  and  tho 
black  cook  lifted  him  up  in  his  arms  as  he  would  a  child,  and 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  47 

(ossed  him  deliberately  into  the  sea.  Hearing  the  blow  and  the 
plunge  of  the  bod}',  the  men  below  could  now  be  induced  to 
venture  on  deck  neither  by  threats  nor  promises,  until  a  propo- 
sition was  made  to  smoke  them  out.  A  general  rush  then  en- 
sued, and  for  a  moment  it  seemed  possible  that  the  brig  might 
be  retaken.  The  mutineers,  however,  succeeded  at  last  in  closing 
the  forecastle  effectually  before  more  than  six  of  their  opponents 
could  get  up.  These  six,  finding  themselves  so  greatly  outnum- 
bered and  without  arms,  submitted  after  a  brief  struggle.  The 
mate  gave  them  fair  words — no  doubt  with  a  view  of  inducing 
those  below  to  yield,  for  they  had  no  difficulty  in  hearing  all  that 
was  said  on  deck.  The  result  proved  his  sagacity,  no  less  than 
his  diabolical  villany.  All  in  the  forecastle  presently  signified 
their  intention  of  submitting,  and,  ascending  one  by  one,  were 
pinioned  and  thrown  on  their  backs,  together  with  the  first  six — 
there  being,  in  all  of  the  crew  who  were  not  concerned  in  the 
mutiny,  twenty-seven. 

A  scene  of  the  most  horrible  butchery  ensued.  The  bound 
seamen  were  dragged  to  the  gangway.  Here  the  cook  stood 
with  an  axe,  striking  each  victim  on  the  head  as  he  was  forced 
over  the  side  of  the  vessel  by  the  other  mutineers.  In  this  man- 
ner twenty-two  perished,  and  Augustus  had  given  himself  up  for 
lost,  expecting  every  moment  his  own  turn  to  come  next.  But 
it  seemed  that  the  villains  were  now  either  weary,  or  in  some 
measure  disgusted  with  their  bloody  labor ;  for  the  four  remain 
ing  prisoners,  together  with  my  friend  who  had  been  thrown  ou 
the  deck  with  the  rest,  were  respited  while  the  mate  sent  below 
for  rum,  and  the  whole  murderous  party  held  a  drunken  carouse, 
which  lasted  until  sunset.  They  now  fell  to  disputing  in  regard 
to  the  fate  of  the  survivors,  who  lay  not  more  than  four  paces 
off,  and  could  distinguish  every  word  said.  Upon  some  of  the 
mutineers  the  liquor  appeared  to  have  a  softening  effect,  for 
several  voices  were  heard  in  favor  of  releasing  the  captives 
altogether,  on  condition  of  joining  the  mutiny  and  sharing  the 
profits.  The  black  cook,  however,  (who  in  all  respects  was  a 
perfect  demon,  and  who  seemed  to  exert  as  much  influence,  if 
uot  more,  than  the  mate  himself,)  would  listen  to  no  proposition 
of  the  kind,  and  rose  repeatedly  for  the  purpose  of  resuming  his 


48  NARRATIVE  OF 


at  (he  gangway.  Fortunately  he  was  so  far  overcome  by 
intoxication  as  to  be  easily  restrained  by  the  less  blood-thirsty 
cf  the  party,  among  whom  was  a  line-manager,  who  went  by  the 
name  of  Dirk  Peters.  This  man  was  the  son  of  an  Indian 
woman  of  the  tribe  of  Upsarokas,  who  live  among  the  fastnesses 
of  the  Black  Hills,  near  the  source  of  the  Missouri.  His  father 
was  a  fur-trader,  I  believe,  or  at  least  connected  in  some  manner 
with  the  Indian  trading-posts  on  Lewis  river.  Peters  himself 
was  one  of  the  most  ferocious-looking  men  I  ever  beheld.  lie 
was  short  in  stature,  not  more  than  four  feet  eight  inches  high, 
but  his  limbs  were  of  Herculean  mould.  His  hands,  especially, 
were  so  enormously  thick  and  broad  as  hardly  to  retain  a  human 
shape.  His  arms,  as  well  as  legs,  were  bowed  in  the  most  sin- 
gular manner,  and  appeared  to  possess  no  flexibility  whatever. 
His  head  was  equally  deformed,  being  of  immense  size,  with  an 
indentation  on  the  crown  (like  that  on  the  head  of  most  negroes), 
and  entirely  bald.  To  conceal  this  latter  deficiency,  which  did 
riot  proceed  from  old  age,  he  usually  wore  a  wig  formed  of  any 
hair-like  material  which  presented  itself  —  occasionally  the  skin 
of  a  Spanish  dog  or  American  grizzly  bear.  At  the  time  spoken 
of,  he  had  on  a  portion  of  one  of  these  bear-skins  ;  and  it  added 
no  little  to  the  natural  ferocity  of  his  countenance,  which  betook 
of  the  Upsaroka  character.  The  mouth  extended  nearly  from 
ear  to  ear  ;  the  lips  were  thin,  and  seemed,  like  some  other  por- 
tions of  his  frame,  to  be  devoid  of  natural  pliancy,  so  that  the 
ruling  expression  never  varied  under  the  influence  of  any  emo- 
tion whatever.  This  ruling  expression  may  be  conceived  when 
it  is  considered  that  the  teeth  were  exceedingly  long  and  pro- 
truding, and  never  even  partially  covered,  in  any  instance,  by 
the  lips.  To  pass  this  man  with  a  casual  glance,  one  might 
imagine  him  to  be  convulsed  with  laughter  ;  but  a  second  look 
would  induce  a  shuddering  acknowledgment,  that  if  such  an  ex- 
pression were  indicative  of  merriment,  the  merriment  must  be 
that  of  a  demon.  Of  this  singular  being  many  anecdotes  were 
prevalent  among  the  seafaring  men  of  Nantuckct.  These  anec- 
dotes went  to  prove  his  prodigious  strength  when  under  excite- 
ment, and  some  of  them  had  given  rise  to  a  doubt  of  his  sanity 
liut  ou  board  the  Grampus,  it  se^  ms,  he  was  regarded,  at  the 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  49 

Mmc  of  the  mutiny,  with  feelings  more  of  derision  than  of  any- 
thing else.  I  have  been  thus  particular  in  speaking  of  Dirk 
Peters,  because,  ferocious  as  he  appeared,  he  proved  the  main 
instrument  in  preserving  the  life  of  Augustus,  and  because  I 
shall  have  frequent  occasion  to  mention  him  hereafter  in  the 
course  of  my  narrative — a  narrative,  let  me  here  say,  which,  in 
its  latter  portions,  will  be  found  to  include  incidents  of  a  nature 
so  entirely  out  of  the  range  of  human  experience,  and  for  this 
reason  so  far  beyond  the  limits  of  human  credulity,  that  I  pro- 
ceed in  utter  hopelessness  of  obtaining  credence  for  all  that  I 
shall  tell,  yet  confidently  trusting  in  time  and  progressing  science 
to  verify  some  of  the  most  important  and  most  improbable  of  my 
statements. 

After  much  indecision  and  two  or  three  violent  quarrels,  it  was 
determined  at  last  that  all  the  prisoners  (with  the  exception  of 
Augustus,  whom  Peters  insisted  in  a  jocular  manner  upon  keep- 
ing as  his  clerk)  should  be  set  adrift  in  one  of  the  smallest 
whaleboats.  The  mate  went  down  into  the  cabin  to  see  if  Cap- 
tain Barnard  was  still  living — for,  it  will  be  remembered,  he  was 
left  below  when  the  mutineers  came  up.  Presently  the  two 
made  their  appearance,  the  captain  pale  as  death,  but  somewhat 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  wound.  He  spoke  to  the  men 
in  a  voice  hardly  articulate,  entreated  them  not  to  set  him  adrift, 
but  to  return  to  their  duty,  and  promising  to  land  them  wherever 
they  chose,  and  to  take  no  steps  for  bringing  them  to  justice. 
He  might  as  well  have  spoken  to  the  winds.  Two  of  the  ruf- 
fians seized  him  by  the  arms  and  hurled  him  over  the  brig's  side 
into  the  boat,  which  had  been  lowered  while  the  mate  went  below. 
Tin?  four  men  who  were  lying  on  the  deck  were  then  untied  and 
ordered  to  follow,  which  they  did  without  attempting  any  re- 
sistance— Augustus  being  still  left  in  his  painful  position,  although 
lie  struggled  and  prayed  only  for  the  poor  satisfaction  of  being 
permitted  to  bid  his  father  farewell.  A  handful  of  sea-biscuit 
and  a  jug  of  water  were  now  handed  down;  but  neither  mast, 
sail,  oar,  nor  compass.  The  boat  was  towed  astern  for  a  few 
minutes,  during  which  the  mutineers  held  another  consultation— 
it  wa-  then  finally  cut  adrift.  By  this  time  night  had  come  on— 
t lu-re  were  neither  moon  nor  stars  visible — and  a  short  and  ugly 


50  NARRATIVE  OF 

sea  was  running,  although  there  .was  no  great  deal  of  wind 
The  boat  was  instantly  out  of  sight,  and  little  hope  could  be 
entertained  for  the  unfortunate  sufferers  who  were  in  it.  This 
event  happened,  however,  in  latitude  35°  30'  north,  longitude 
61°  20'  west,  and  consequently  at  no  very  great  distance  from 
the  Bermuda  Islands.  Augustus  therefore  endeavored  to  con- 
sole himself  with  the  idea  that  the  boat  might  either  succeed  in 
reaching  the  land,  or  come  sufficiently  near  to  be  fallen  in  with 
by  vessels  off  the  coast. 

All  sail  was  now  put  upon  the  brig,  and  she  continued  her 
original  course  to  the  southwest — the  mutineers  being  bent  upon 
some  piratical  expedition,  in  which,  from  all  that  could  be  un- 
derstood, a  ship  was  to  be  intercepted  on  her  way  from  the  Cape 
Verd  Islands  to  Porto  Rico.  No  attention  was  paid  to  Augustus, 
who  was  untied  and  suffered  to  go  about  anywhere  forward  of 
the  cabin  companion-way.  Dirk  Peters  treated  him  with  some 
degree  of  kindness,  and  on  one  occasion  saved  him  from  the 
brutality  of  the  cook.  His  situation  was  still  one  of  the  most 
precarious,  as  the  men  were  continually  intoxicated,  and  there 
was  no  relying  upon  their  continued  good-humor  or  carelessness 
in  regard  to  himself.  His  anxiety  on  my  account  he  represented, 
however,  as  the  most  distressing  result  of  his  condition ;  and, 
indeed,  I  had  never  reason  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  his  friend- 
ship. More  than  once  he  had  resolved  to  acquaint  the  mutineers 
with  the  secret  of  my  being  on  board,  but  was  restrained  from 
so  doing,  partly  through  recollection  of  the  atrocities  he  had  al- 
ready beheld,  and  partly  through  a  hope  of  being  able  soon  to 
bring  me  relief.  For  the  latter  purpose  he  was  constantly  on  the 
watch  ;  but,  in  .spite  of  the  most  constant  vigilance,  three  days 
elapsed  after  the  boat  was  cut  adrift  before  any  chance  occurred. 
At  length,  on  the  night  of  the  third  day,  there  came  on  a  heavy 
blow  from  the  eastward,  and  all  hands  were  called  up  to  take  in 
sail.  During  the  confusion  which  ensued,  he  made  his  way 
below  unobserved,  and  into  the  state-room.  What  was  his  grief 
and  horror  in  discovering  that  the  latter  had  been  rendered  a 
place  of  deposite  for  a  variety  of  sea-stores  and  ship  furniture, 
and  that  several  fathoms  of  old  chain-cable,  which  had  been 
stowed  away  beneath  the  companion-ladder,  had  been  dragged 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  51 

thence  to  make  room  for  a  chest,  and  were  now  tying  immediatclv 
upon  the  trap !  To  remove  it  without  discovery  was  impossible, 
and  he  returned  on  deck  as  quickly  as  he  could.  As  he  came  up> 
the  mate  seized  him  by  the  throat,  and  demanding  what  he  had 
been  doing  in  the  cabin,  was  about  flinging  him  over  the  larboard 
bulwark,  when  his  life  was  again  preserved  through  the  interference 
of  Dirk  Peters.  Augustus  was  now  put  in  handcuffs  (of  which 
there  were  several  pairs  on  board),  and  his  feet  lashed  tightly  toge- 
ther. He  was  then  taken  into  the  steerage,  and  thrown  into  a 
lower  berth  next  to  the  forecastle  bulkheads,  with  the  assurance 
that  he  should  never  put  his  foot  on  deck  again  "  until  the  brig  was 
no  longer  a  brig."  This  was  the  expression  of  the  cook,  who  threw 
him  into  the  berth — it  is  hardly  possible  to  say  what  precise  mean- 
ing was  intended  by'  the  phrase.  The  whole  affair,  however, 
proved  the  ultimate  means  of  my  relief,  as  will  presently  appear. 


CHAPTER  V. 

FOR  some  minutes  after  the  cook  had  left  the  forecastle, 
Augustus  abandoned  himself  to  despair,  never  hoping  to  leave 
the  berth  alive.  He  now  came  to  the  resolution  of  acquainting 
the  first  of  the  men  who  should  come  down  with  my  situation, 
thinking  it  better  to  let  me  take  my  chance  with  the  mutineers 
than  perish  of  thirst  in  the  hold — for  it  had  been  ten  days  since 
[  was  first  imprisoned  and  my  jug  of  water  was  not  a  plentiful 
.supply  even  for  four.  As  he  was  thinking  on  this  subject,  the 
idea  came  all  at  once  into  his  head  that  it  might  be  possible  to 
communicate  with  me  by  the  way  of  "ihe  main  hold.  In  any 
Other  circumstances,  the  difficulty  and  hazard  of  the  undertaking 
would  have  prevented  him  from  attempting  it;  but  now  ho  had, 
at  all  events,  little  prospect  of  life,  and  consequently  little  to 
lose — he  bent  his  whole  mind,  therefore,  upon  the  task. 

His  handcuffs  were  the  first  consideration.  At  first  he  saw  no 
method  of  removing  them,  and  feared  that  he  should  thus  bo 
baffled  in  the  very  outset ;  but  uoon  a  closer  scrutiny,  he  dis- 


52  NARRATIVE  OF 

covered  that  the  irons  could  be  slipped  off  and  on  at  pleasure 
with  very  little  effort  or  inconvenience,  merely  by  squeezing  his 
hands  through  them — this  species  of  manacle  being  altogether 
ineffectual  in  confining  young  persons,  in  whom  the  smaller  bones 
readily  yield  to  pressure.  He  now  untied  his  feet;  and.  leaving 
the  cord  in  such  a  manner  that  it  could  easily  be  readjusted  in 
the  event  of  any  person's  coming  down,  proceeded  to  examine 
the  bulkhead  where  it  joined  the  berth.  The  partition  here  was 
of  soft  pine  board,  an  inch  thick,  and  he  saw  that  he  should  have 
little  trouble  in  cutting  his  way  through.  A  voice  was  now  heard 
at  the  forecastle  companion-way,  and  he  had  just  time  to  put  his 
right  hand  into  its  handcuff  (the  left  had  not  been  removed),  and 
to  draw  the  rope  in  a  slipknot  around  his  ankle,  when  Dirk 
Peters  came  below,  followed  by  Tiger,  who  immediately  leaped 
into  the  berth  and  lay  down.  The  dog  had  been  brought  on 
board  by  Augustus,  who  knew  my  attachment  to  the  animal,  and 
thought  it  would  give  me  pleasure  to  have  him  with  me  during 
the  voyage.  He  went  up  to  our  house  for  him  immediately  after 
first  taking  me  into  the  hold,  but  did  not  think  of  mentioning  the 
circumstance  upon  his  bringing  the  watch.  Since  the  mutiny 
Augustus  had  not  seen  him  before  his  appearance  with  Dirk 
Peters,  and  had  given  him  up  for  lost,  supposing  him  to  havta 
been  thrown  overboard  by  some  of  the  malignant  villains  be- 
longing to  the  mate's  gang.  It  appeared  afterward  that  he  had 
crawled  into  a  hole  beneath  a  whale-boat,  from  which,  not  having 
room  to  turn  round,  he  could  not  extricate  himself.  Peters  at 
last  let  him  out,  and,  with  a  species  of  good  feeling  which  my 
friend  knew  well  how  to  appreciate,  had  now  brought  him  to  him 
in  the  forecastle  as  a  companion,  leaving  at  the  same  time  some 
salt  junk  and  potatoes,  with  a  can  of  water :  he  then  went  on 
deck,  promising  to  come  down  with  something  more  to  eat  on 
the  next  day. 

When  he  had  gone,  Augustus  freed  both  hands  from  the  ma- 
nacles and  unfastened  his  feet.  He  then  turned  down  the  head 
of  the  mattress  on  which  he  had  been  lying,  and  with  his  pen-- 
knife  (for  the  ruffians  had  not  tt ought  it  worth  while  to  search 
him)  commenced  cutting  vigorously  across  one  of  the  partition 
planks,  a-  closely  as  possible  to  the  floor  of  the  berth.  He 


A    GORDON  PYM.  53 

cho^e  to  cut  here,  because,  if  suddenly  interrupted,  he  would  be 
able  to  conceal  what  had  been  done  by  letting  the  head  of  the 
mattress  fall  into  its  proper  position.  For  the  remainder  of  r.he 
day,  however,  no  disturbance  occurred,  and  by  night  he  .had 
completely  divided  the  plank.  It  should  here  be  observed,  that 
none  of  the  crew  occupied  the  forecastle  as  a  sleeping-place, 
living  altogether  in  the  cabin  since  the  mutiny,  drinking  the 
wines,  and  feasting  on  the  sea-stores  of  Captain  Barnard,  and 
giving  no  more  heed  than  was  absolutely  necessary  to  the  navi- 
gation of  the  brig.  These  circumstances  proved  fortunate  both, 
for  myself  and  Augustus ;  for,  had  matters  been  otherwise,  he 
would  have  found  it  impossible  to  reach  me.  As  it  was,  he  pro- 
ceeded with  confidence  in  his  design.  It  was  near  daybreak, 
however,  before  he  completed  the  second  division  of  the  board 
(which  was  about  a  foot  above  the  first  cut),  thus  making  an 
aperture  quite  large  enough  to  admit  his  passage  through  with 
facility  to  the  main  orlop  deck.  Having  got  here,  he  made  his 
way  with  but  little  trouble  to  the  lower  main  hatch,  although  in 
so  doing  he  had  to  scramble  over  tiers  of  oil-casks  piled  nearly 
as  high  as  the  upper  deck,  there  being  barely  room  enough  left 
for  his  body.  Upon  reaching  the  hatch,  he  found  that  Tiger  had 
followed  him  below,  squeezing  between  two  rows  of  the  casks 
It  was  now  too  late,  however,  to  attempt  getting  to  me  before 
dawn,  as  the  chief  difficulty  lay  in  passing  through  the  close 
stowage  in  the  lower  hold.  He  therefore  re.<olved  to  return,  and 
wait  till  the  next  night.  With  this  design,  he  proceeded  to 
loosen  the  hatch,  so  that  he  might  have  as  little  detention  as 
possible  when  he  should  come  again.  No  sooner  had  he  loosen- 
ed it  than  Tiger  sprang  eagerly  to  the  small  opening  produced, 
snuffed  for  a  moment,  and  then  uttered  a  long  whine,  scratching 
at  the  same  time,  as  if  anxious  to  remove  the  covering  with  his 
paw>.  There  could  be  no  doubt,  from  his  behavior,  that  he  was 
aware  of  my  being  in  the  hold,  and  Augustus  thought  it  possible 
that  he  would  be  able  to  get  to  me  if  he  put  him  down.  He 
now  hit  upon  the  expedient  of  sending  the  note,  as  it  was  espe- 
cially desirable  that  I  should  make  no  attempt  at  forcing  my 
way  out,  at  least  under  existing  circumstances,  and  there  could 
be  no  certainty  of  his  getting  to  me  himself  on  the  morrow  as  he 


54  NARRATIVE  OF 

intended.  After  events  proved  how  fortunate  it  was  that  the 
idea  occurred  to  him  as  it  did ;  for,  had  it  not  been  for  the  re- 
ceipt of  t-he  note,  I  should  undoubtedly  have  fallen  upon  some 
plau,  however  desperate,  of  alarming  the  crew,  and  both  our 
lives  would  most  probably  have  been  sacrificed  in  consequence. 

Having  concluded  to  write,  the  difficulty  was  now  to  procure 
the  materials  for  so  doing.  An  old  toothpick  was  soon  made  into 
a  pen ;  and  this  by  means  of  feeling  altogether,  for  the  between- 
clecks  were  as  dark  as  pitch.  Paper  enough  was  obtained  from 
the  back  of  a  letter — a  duplicate  of  the  forged  letter  from  Mr. 
Ross.  This  had  been  the  original  draught;  but  the  handwriting 
not  being  sufficiently  well  imitated,  Augustus  had  written  an- 
other, thrusting  the  first,  by  good  fortune,  into  his  coat-pocket, 
vrhere  it  was  now  most  opportunely  discovered.  Ink  alone  was 
thus  wanting,  and  a  substitute  was  immediately  found  for  this 
by  means  of  a  slight  incision  with  the  penknife  on  the  back  of 
a  finger  just  above  the  nail — a  copious  flow  of  blood  ensuing,  as 
u:;ual,  from  wounds  in  that  vicinity.  The  note  was  now  written, 
as  well  as  it  could  be  in  the  dark,  and  under  the  circumstances. 
It  briefly  explained  that  a  mutiny  had  taken  place ;  that  Captain 
Barnard  was  set  adrift ;  and  that  I  might  expect  immediate 
relief  as  far  as  provisions  were  concerned,  but  must  not  venture 
upon  making  any  disturbance.  It  concluded  with  these  words : 
"/  have  scrawled  this  with  blood — your  life  depends  upon  lying 
close." 

The  slip  of  paper  being  tied  upon  the  dog,  he  was  now  put 
down  the  hatchway,  and  Augustus  made  the  best  of  his  wav 
back  to  the  forecastle,  where  he  found  no  reason  to  believe  thai 
any  of  the  crew  had  been  in  his  absence.  To  conceal  the  hole 
in  the  partition,  he  drove  his  knife  in  just  above  it,  and  hung  up 
a  pea-jacket  which  he  found  in  the  berth.  His  handcuffs  were 
then  replaced,  and  also  the  rope  around  his  ankles. 

These  arrangements  were  scarcely  completed  when  Dirk 
Peters  came  below,  very  drunk,  but  in  excellent  humor,  and 
bringing  with  him  my  friend's  allowance  of  provision  for  the  day. 
This  consisted  of  a  dozen  large  Irish  potatoes  roasted,  and  a 
pitcher  of  water.  He  sat  for  some  time  or.  a  chest  by  the  berth, 
ard  talked  freely  about  the  mate  and  the  general  concerns  of 


A.   GORDON  PYM.  55 

the  brig.  His  demeanor  was  exceedingly  capricious,  ar.d  even 
grotesque.  At  one  time  Augustus  was  much  alarmed  by  his 
odd  conduct.  At  last,  however,  he  went  on  deck,  muttering  a 
promise  to  bring  his  prisoner  a  good  dinner  on  the  morrow. 
During  the  day  two  of  the  crew  (harpooners)  came  down,  ac- 
companied by  the  cook,  all  three  in  nearly  the  last  stage  of 
intoxication.  Like  Peters,  they  made  no  scruple  of  talking 
unreservedly  about  their  plans.  It  appeared  that  they  were 
much  divided  among  themselves  as  to  their  ultimate  course, 
agreeing  in  no  point,  except  the  attack  on  the  ship  from  the 
Cape  Verd  Islands,  with  which  they  were  in  hourly  expectation 
of  meeting.  As  far  as  could  be  ascertained,  the  mutiny  had  not 
been  brought  about  altogether  for  the  sake  of  booty ;  a  private 
pique  of  the  chief  mate's  against  Captain  Barnard  having  been 
the  main  instigation.  There  now  seemed  to  be  two  principal 
factions  among  the  crew — one  headed  by  the  mate,  the  other  by 
the  cook.  The  former  party  were  for  seizing  the  first  suitable 
vessel  which  should  present  itself,  and  equipping  it  at  some  of 
the  West  India  Islands  for  a  piratical  cruise.  The  latter  divi- 
sion, however,  which  was  the  stronger,  and  included  Dirk  Peters 
among  its  partisans,  were  bent  upon  pursuing  the  course  origi- 
nally laid  out  for  the  brig  into  the  South  Pacific ;  there  either 
to  take  whale,  or  act  otherwise,  as  circumstances  should  suggest. 
The  representations  of  Peters,  who  had  frequently  visited  these 
regions,  had  great  weight,  apparently,  with  the  mutineers, 
wavering,  as  they  were,  between  half-engendered  notions  of 
profit  and  pleasure.  He  dwelt  on  the  world  of  novelty  and 
amusement  to  be  found  among  the  innumerable  islands,  of  the 
Pacific,  on  the  perfect  security  and  freedom  from  all  restraint  to 
be  enjoyed,  but,  more  particularly,  on  the  deliciousness  of  the 
climate,  on  the  abundant  means  of  good  living,  and  on  the  vo- 
luptuous beauty  of  the  women.  As  yet,  nothing  had  been  abso- 
lutely determined  upon ;  but  the  pictures  of  the  hybrid  line- 
manager  were  taking  strong  hold  upon  the  ardent  imaginations 
of  the  seamen,  and  there  was  every  probability  that  his  inter? 
tions  would  be  finally  carried  into  effect. 

The  three  men  went  away  in  about  an  hour,  and  no  one  else 
entered  the  forecastle  all  day.     Augustus  lay  quiet  until  nearly 


66  NARRATIVE  OF 

night.  He  then  freed  himself  from  the  rope  and  irons,  and  pre 
pared  for  his  attempt.  A  bottle  was  found  in  one  of  the  berths; 
and  this  he  filled  with  water  from  the  pitcher  left  by  Peters, 
fetoring  his  pockets  at  the  same  time  with  cold  potatoes.  To  his 
great  joy  he  also  came  across  a  lantern,  with  a  small  piece  of 
tallow  candle  in  it.  This  ue  could  light  aj  any  moment,  as  Lc 
had  in  his  possession  a  box  of  phosphorus  matches.  When  it 
was  quite  dark,  he  got  through  the  hole  in  the  bulkhead,  having 
taken  the  precaution  to  arrange  the  bedclothes  in  the  berth  so 
as  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  person  covered  up.  When  through, 
he  hung  up  the  pea-jacket  on  his  knife,  as  before,  to  conceal  the 
aperture — this  manoeuvre  being  easily  effected,  as  he  did  not  re- 
adjust the  piece  of  plank  taken  out  until  afterward.  He  was 
now  on  the  main  orlop  deck,  and  proceeded  to  make  his  way,  as 
before,  between  the  upper  deck  and  the  oil-casks  to  the  main 
hatchway.  Having  reached  this,  he  lit  the  piece  of  candle,  and 
descended,  groping  with  extreme  difficulty  among  the  compact 
stowage  of  the  hold.  In  a  few  moments  he  became  alarmed  at 
the  insufferable  stench  and  the  closeness  of  the  atmosphere.  He 
could  not  think  it  possible  that  I  had  survived  my  confinement 
for  so  long  a  period  breathing  so  oppressive  an  air.  He  called 
my  name  repeatedly,  but  I  made  him  no  reply,  and  his  appre- 
hensions seemed  thus  to  be  confirmed.  The  brig  was  rolling 
violently,  and  there  was  so  much  noise  in  consequence,  that  it 
was  useless  to  listen  for  any  weak  sound,  such  as  those  of  my 
breathing  or  snoring.  He  threw  open  the  lantern,  and  held  it 
as  high  as  possible,  whenever  an  opportunity  occurred,  in  order 
that,  by  observing  the  light,  I  might,  if  alive,  be  aware  that  suc- 
cor was  approaching.  Still  nothing  was  heard  from  me,  and 
the  supposition  of  my  death  began  to  assume  the  character  01 
certainty.  He  determined,  nevertheless,  to  force  a  passage,  ii 
possible,  to  the  box,  and  at  least  ascertain  beyond  a  doubt  the 
frith  of  his  surmises.  He  pushed  on  for  some  time  in  a  most 
pitiable  state  of  anxiety,  until,  at  length,  he  found  the  pathway 
utterly  blocked  up,  and  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  making 
any  farther  way  by  the  course  in  which  he  had  set  out.  Over- 
come now  by  his  feelings,  he  threw  himself  among  the  lumbei 
in  despair,  and  wept  like  a  child  It  was  at  this  period  (Uat  lie 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  5? 

heard  the  crash  occasioned  by  the  bottle,  which  I  had  throw  & 
down.  Fortunate,  indeed,  was  it  that  the  incident  occurred—* 
for,  upon  this  incident,  trivial  as  it  appears,  the  thread  of  my 
destiny  depended.  Many  years  elapsed,  however,  before  I  was 
aware  of  this  facl.  A  natural  shame  and  regret  for  his  weak- 
ness and  indecision  prevented  Augustus  from  confiding  to  me 
at  once  what  a  more  intimate  and  unreserved  communion  after- 
ward induced  him  to  reveal.  Upon  finding  his  further  progress 
in  the  hold  impeded  by  obstacles  which  lie  could  not  overcome, 
he  had  resolved  to  abandon  his  attempt  at  reaching  me,  and  re- 
turn at  once  to  the  forecastle.  Before  condemning  him  entirely 
on  this  head,  the  harassing  circumstances  which  embarrassed 
him  should  be  taken  into  consideration.  The  night  was  fast 
wearing  away,  and  his  absence  from  the  forecastle  might  be  dis- 
covered ;  and,  indeed,  would  necessarily  be  so,  if  he  should  fail 
to  get  back  to  the  berth  by  daybreak.  His  candle  was  expiring 
in  the  socket,  and  there  would  be  the  greatest  difficulty  in  re- 
tracing his  way  to  the  hatchway  in  the  dark.  It  must  be  allowed, 
too,  that  he  had  every  good  reason  to  believe  me  dead ;  in  which 
event  no  benefit  could  result  to  me  from  his  reaching  the  box, 
and  a  world  of  danger  would  be  encountered  to  no  purpose  by 
himself.  He  had  repeatedly  called,  and  I  had  made  him  no 
answer.  I  had  been  now  eleven  days  and  nights  with  no  more 
water  than  that  contained  in  the  jug  which  he  had  left  with  rne — 
a  supply  which  it  was  not  a,t  all  probable  I  had  hoarded  in  the 
beginning  of  my  confinement,  as  I  had  had  every  cause  to  expect 
a  speedy  release.  The  atmosphere  of  the  hold,  too,  must  have 
appeared  to  him,  coming  from  the  comparatively  open  air  of  the 
steerage,  of  a  nature  absolutely  poisonous,  and  by  far  more 
intolerable  than  it  had  seemed  to  me  upon  my  first  taking  up 
my  quarters  in  the  box — the  hatchways  at  that  time  having  been 
constantly  open  for  many  months  previous.  Add  to  these  con- 
siderations that  of  the  scene  of  bloodshed  and  terror  so  lately 
witnessed  by  my  friend ;  his  confinement,  privations,  and  narrow 
escapes  from  death,  together  with  the  frail  and  equivocal  tenure 
by  which  he  still  existed — circumstances  all  so  well  calculated 
to  prostrate  every  energy  of  mind — and  the  reader  will  be  easily 
brought,  as  I  have  been,  to  regard  his  apparent  falling  off  in 


58  NARRATIVE  OF 

friendship  and  in  faith  with  sentiments  rather  of  sorrow  than  of 
anger. 

The  crash  of  the  bottle  was  distinctly  heard,  yet  Augustus 
was  not  sure  that  it  proceeded  from  the  hold.  The  doubt,  how- 
ever, was  sufficient  inducement  to  persevere.  He  clambered 
up  nearly  to  the  orlop  deck  by  means  of  the  stowage,  and  then, 
watching  for  a  lull  in  the  pitchings  of  the  vessel,  he  called  out 
to  me  in  as  loud  a  tone  as  he  could  command,  regardless,  for 
the  moment,  of  the  danger  of  being  overheard  by  the  crew.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  on  this  occasion  the  voice  reached  me, 
but  I  was  so  entirely  overcome  by  violent  agitation  as  to  be  in- 
capable of  reply.  Confident,  now,  that  his  worst  apprehensions 
were  well  founded,  he  descended,  with  a  view  of  getting  back 
to  the  forecastle  without  loss  of  time.  In  his  haste,  some  small 
boxes  were  thrown  down,  the  noise  occasioned  by  which  I  heard, 
as  will  be  recollected.  He  had  made  considerable  progress  on 
his  return  when  the  fall  of  the  knife  again  caused  him  to  hesi- 
tate. He  retraced  his  steps  immediately,  and,  clambering  up 
the  stowage  a  second  time,  called  out  my  name,  loudly  as  before, 
having  watched  for  a  lull.  This  time  I  found  voice  to  answer. 
Overjoyed  at  discovering  me  to  be  still  alive,  he  now  resolved 
to  brave  every  difficulty  and  danger  in  reaching  me.  Having 
extricated  himself  as  quickly  as  possible  from  the  labyrinth  of 
lumber  by  which  he  wras  hemmed  in,  he  at  length  struck  into  an 
opening  which  promised  better,  and  finally,  after  a  series  of 
struggles,  arrived  at  the  box  in  a  state  of  utter  exhaustion. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  leading  particulars  of  this  narration  were  all  that  Augus- 
tus communicated  to  me  while  we  remained  near  the  box.  Ir 
was  not  until  afterward  that  he  entered  fully  into  all  the  details. 
He  was  apprehensive  of  being  missed,  and  I  was  wild  with  im- 
patience to  leave  my  detested  place  of  confinement.  We  resolv- 
ed to  make  our  way  at  once  to  the  hole  in  the  bulkhead,  near 
which  I  was  to  remain  for  the  present,  while  he  went  through  to 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  59 

reconnoitre.  To  leave  Tiger  in  the  box  was  what  neither  of  U3 
could  endure  to  think  of;  yet,  how  to  act  otherwise  was  the 
question.  He  now  seemed  to  be  perfectly  quiet,  and  we  could 
not  even  distinguish  the  sound  of  his  breathing  upon  applying 
our  ears  closely  to  the  box.  I  was  convinced  that  he  was  dead, 
and  determined  to  open  the  door.  AVe  found  him  lying  at  full 
length,  apparently  in  a  deep  stupor,  yet  still  alive.  No  time 
was  to  be  lost,  yet  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  abandon  an  animal 
who  had  now  been  twice  instrumental  in  saving  my  life,  without 
some  attempt  at  preserving  him.  We  therefore  dragged  him 
along  with  us  as  well  as  we  could,  although  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  and  fatigue  ;  Augustus,  during  part  of  the  time,  being 
forced  to  clamber  over  the  impediments  in  our  way  with  the 
huge  dog  in  his  arms — a  feat  to  which  the  feebleness  of  my 
frame  rendered  me  totally  inadequate.  At  length  we  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  hole,  when  Augustus  got  through,  and  Tiger  was 
pushed  in  afterward.  All  was  found  to  be  safe,  and  we  did  not 
fail  to  return  sincere  thanks  to  God  for  our  deliverance  from  the 
imminent  danger  we  had  escaped.  For  the  present,  it  was 
agreed  that  I  should  remain  near  the  opening,  through  which  my 
companion  could  readily  supply  me  with  a  part  of  his  daily  pro- 
vision, and  where  I  could  have  the  advantages  of  breathing  an 
atmosphere  comparatively  pure. 

In  explanation  of  some  portions  of  this  narrative,  wherein  I 
have  spoken  of  the  stowage  of  the  brig,  and  which  may  appeal 
ambiguous  to  some  of  my  readers  who  may  have  seen  a  proper 
or  regular  stowage,  I  must  here  state  that  the  manner  in  which 
this  most  important  duty  had  been  performed  on  board  the 
Grampus  was  a  most  shameful  piece  of  neglect  on  the  part  of 
Captain  Barnard,  who  was  by  no  means  as  careful  or  as  expe- 
rienced a  seaman  as  the  hazardous  nature  of  the  service  on  which 
he  was  employed,  would  seem  necessarily  to  demand.  A  proper 
stowage  cannot  be  accomplished  in  a  careless  manner,  and  many 
most  disastrous  accidents,  even  within  the  limits  of  my  own  ex- 
perience, have  arisen  from  neglect  or  ignorance  in  this  particular. 
Coasting  vessels,  in  the  frequent  hurry  and  bustle  attendant  upon 
taking  in  or  discharging  cargo,  are  the  most  liable  to  mishap 
from  the  want  of  a  proper  attention  to  stowage.  The  great 


60 


NARRATIVE  OF 


point  is  to  allow  no  possibility  of  the  cargo  or  ballast's  shifting 
position  even  in  the  most  violent  rollings  of  the  vessel.  With 
this  end,  great  attention  must  be  paid,  not  only  to  the  bulk  taken 
in,  but  to  the  nature  of  the  bulk,  and  whether  there  be  a  full  or 
only  a  partial  cargo.  In  most  kinds  of  freight  the  stowage  is 
accomplished  by  means  of  a  screw.  Thus,  in  a  load  of  tobacco 
or  flour,  the  whole  is  screwed  so  tightly  into  the  hold  of  the  ves- 
sel that  the  barrels  or  hogsheads,  upon  discharging,  are  found  to 
be  completely  flattened,  and  take  some  time  to  regain  their 
original  shape.  This  screwing,  however,  is  resorted  to  princi- 
pally with  a  view  of  obtaining  more  room  in  the  hold ;  for  in  a 
full  load  of  any  such  commodities  as  flour  or  tobacco,  there  can 
be  no  danger  of  any  shifting  whatever,  at  least  none  from  which 
inconvenience  can  result.  There  have  been  instances,  indeed, 
where  this  method  of  screwing  has  resulted  in  the  most  lamen- 
table consequences,  arising  from  a  cause  altogether  distinct  from 
the  danger  attendant  upon  a  shifting  of  cargo.  A  load  of  cotton, 
for  example,  tightly  screwed  while  in  certain  conditions,  has  been 
known,  through  the  expansion  of  its  bulk,  to  rend  a  vessel  asunder 
at  sea.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  either,  that  the  same  result 
would  ensue  in  the  case  of  tobacco,  while  undergoing  its  usual 
course  of  fermentation,  were  it  not  for  the  interstices  consequent 
upon  the  rotundity  of  the  hogsheads. 

It  is  when  a  partial  cargo  is  received  that  danger  is  chiefly  to 
be  apprehended  from  shifting,  and  that  precautions  should  be 
always  taken  to  guard  against  such  misfortune.  Only  those  who 
have  encountered  a  violent  gale  of  wind,  or  rather  who  have 
experienced  the  rolling  of  a  vessel  in  a  sudden  calm  after  the 
gale,  can  form  an  idea  of  the  tremendous  force  of  the  plunges, 
and  of  the  consequent  terrible  impetus  given  to  all  loose  articles 
in  the  vessel.  It  is  then  that  the  necessity  of  a  cautious  stow- 
age, when  there  is  a  partial  cargo,  becomes  obvious.  When 
lying  to  (especially  with  a  small  head  sail),  a  vessel  which  is 
not  properly  modelled  in  the  bows  is  frequently  thrown  upon 
her  beam-ends  ;  this  occurring  even  every  h'fteen  or  twenty  mi- 
nutes upon  an  average,  yet  without  any  serious  consequences 
resulting,  provided  there  be  a  proper  stowage.  If  this,  however, 
has  not  been  strictly  attended  to,  in  the  first  of  theae  heavy 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  61 

lurches  the  whole  of  the  cargo  tumbles  over  to  the  side  of  the 
vessel  which  lies  upon  the  water,  and,  being  thus  prevented  from 
regaining  her  equilibrium,  as  she  would  otherwise  necessarily  do, 
she  is  certain  to  fill  in  a  few  seconds  and  go  down.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  at  least  one  half  of  the  instances  in  which 
vessels  have  foundered  in  heavy  gales  at  sea  may  be  attributed 
to  a  shifting  of  cargo  or  of  ballast. 

When  a  partial  cargo  of  any  kind  is  taken  on  board,  the  whole, 
after  being  first  stowed  as  compactly  as  may  be,  should  be  co- 
vered with  a  layer  of  stout  shifting-boards,  extending  com- 
pletely across  the  vessel.  Upon  these  boards  strong  temporary 
stanchions  should  be  erected,  reaching  to  the  timbers  above,  and 
thus  securing  everything  in  its  place.  In  cargoes  consisting  of 
grain,  or  any  similar  matter,  additional  precautions  are  requisite. 
A  hold  filled  entirely  with  grain  upon  leaving  port  will  be 
found  not  more  than  three  fourths  full  upon  reaching  its  destina- 
tion— this,  too,  although  the  freight,  when  measured  bushel  by 
bushel  by  the  consignee,  will  overrun  by  a  vast  deal  (on  account 
of  the  swelling  of  the  grain)  the  quantity  consigned.  This 
result  is  occasioned  by  settling  during  the  voyage,  and  is  the 
more  perceptible  in  proportion  to  the  roughness  of  the  weather 
experienced.  If  grain  loosely  thrown  in  a  vessel,  then,  is  ever 
so  well  secured  by  shifting-boards  and  stanchions,  it  will  be 
liable  to  shift  in  a  long  passage  so  greatly  as  to  bring  about  the 
most  distressing  calamities.  To  prevent  these,  every  method 
should  be  employed  before  leaving  port  to  settle  the  cargo  as 
much  as  possible  ;  and  for  this  there  are  many  contrivances, 
among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  driving  of  wedges  into  the 
grain.  Even  after  all  this  is  done,  and  unusual  pains  taken  to 
secure  the  shifting  boards,  no  seaman  who  knows  what  he  is  about 
will  feel  altogether  secure  in  a  gale  of  any  violence  with  a 
cargo  of  grain  on  board,  and,  least  of  all,  with  a  partial  cargo. 
Yet  there  are  hundreds  of  our  coasting  vessels,  and,  it  is  likely, 
many  more  from  the  ports  of  Europe,  which  sail  daily  with 
partial  cargoes,  even  of  the  most  dangerous  species,  and  without 
any  precautions  whatever.  The  wonder  is  that  no  more  acci- 
dents occur  than  do  actually  happen.  A  lamentable  instance  ot 
this  heedlessness  occurred  to  rav  knowledge  in  the  case  of  Cap- 


62  NARRATIVE  OF 

tain  Joel  Rice  of  the  schooner  Firefly,  which  sailed  from  Rich- 
mond, Virginia,  to  Madeira,  with  a  cargo  of  corn,  in  the  year 
]825.  The  captain  had  gone  many  voyages  without  serious  ac- 
cident, although  he  was  in  the  habit  of  paymg  no  attention  what- 
ever to  his  stowage,  more  than  to  secure  it  in  the  ordinary  man- 
ner. He  had  never  before  sailed  with  a  cargo  of  grain,  and  on 
this  occasion  had  the  corn  thrown  on  board  loosely,  when  it  did 
not  much  more  than  half  fill  the  vessel.  For  the  first  portion 
of  the  voyage  he  met  with  nothing  more  than  light  breezes ;  but 
when  within  a  day's  sail  of  Madeira  there  came  on  a  strong  gale 
from  the  N.  N.  E.  which  forced  him  to  lie  to.  He  brought  the 
schooner  to  the  wind  under  a  double-reefed  foresail  alone,  when 
she  rode  as  well  as  any  vessel  could  be  expected  to  do,  and 
shipped  not  a  drop  of  water.  Towards  night  the  gale  somewhat 
abated,  and  she  rolled  with  more  unsteadiness  than  before,  but 
still  did  very  well,  until  a  heavy  lurch  threw  her  upon  her  beam- 
ends  to  starboard.  The  corn  was  then  heard  to  shift  bodily,  the 
force  of  the  movement  bursting  open  the  main  hatchway.  The 
vessel  went  down  like  a  shot.  This  happened  within  hail  of  a 
small  sloop  from  Madeira,  which  picked  up  one  of  the  crew  (the 
only  person  saved),  and  which  rode  out  the  gale  in  perfect  secu- 
rity, as  indeed  a  jollyboat  might  have  done  under  proper  manage- 
ment. 

The  stowage  on  board  the  Grampus  was  most  clumsily  done, 
if  stowage  that  could  be  called  which  was  little  better  than  a 
promiscuous  huddling  together  of  oil-casks*  and  ship  furniture. 
1  have  already  spoken  of  the  condition  of  articles  in  the  hold. 
On  the  orlop  deck  there  was  space  enough  for  my  body  (as  I 
Lave  stated)  between  the  oil-casks  and  the  upper  deck;  a  space 
was  left  open  around  the  main  hatchway ;  and  several  other 
large  spaces  were  left  in  the  stowage.  Near  the  hole  cut  through 
the  bulkhead  by  Augustus  there  was  room  enough  for  an  entire 
cask,  and  in  this  space  I  found  myself  comfortably  situated  for 
the  present. 

By  the  time  my  friend  had  got  safely  into  the  berth,  and  re- 

*  Whaling  vessels  are  usually  fitted  with  iron  oil-tanks — why  t.lu» 
Gran^pus  was  not  I  have  never  been  able  to  ascertain. 


A.  GORDON  PiTM.  63 

adjusted  his  handcuffs  and  the  rope,  it  was  broad  daylight.  "VVe 
had  made  a  narrow  escape  indeed  ;  for  scarcely  had  he  arranged 
all  matters,  when  the  mate  came  below  with  Dirk  Peters  and  the 
cook.  They  talked  for  some  time  about  the  vessel  from  the 
Cape  Verds,  and  seemed  to  be  excessively  anxious  for  her  ap- 
pearance. At  length  the  cook  came  to  the  berth  in  which  Au- 
gustus was  lying,  and  seated  himself  in  it  near  the  head.  I  could 
see  and  hear  everything  from  my  hiding-place,  for  the  piece  cut 
out  had  not  been  put  back,  and  I  was  in  momentary  expectation 
that  the  negro  would  fall  against  the  pea-jacket,  which  was  hung 
up  to  conceal  the  aperture,  in  which  case  all  would  have  been 
discovered,  and  our  lives  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  instantly 
sacrificed.  Our  good  fortune  prevailed,  however ;  and  although 
he  frequently  touched  it  as  the  vessel  rolled,  he  never  pressed 
against  it  sufficiently  to  bring  about  a  discovery.  The  bottom  of 
:he  jacket  had  been  carefully  fastened  to  the  bulkhead,  so  that 
the  hole  might  not  be  seen  by  its  swinging  to  one  side.  All 
this  time  Tiger  was  lying  in  the  foot  of  the  berth,  and  appeared 
to  have  recovered  in  some  measure  his  faculties,  for  I  could  see 
him  occasionally  open  his  eyes  and  draw  a  long  breath. 

After  a  few  minutes  the  mate  and  cook  went  above,  leaving 
Dirk  Peters  behind,  who,  as  soon  as  they  were  gone,  came  and 
sat  himself  down  in  the  place  just  occupied  by  the  mate.  He 
began  to  talk  very  sociably  with  Augustus,  and  we  could  now 
see  that  the  greater  part  of  his  apparent  intoxication,  while  the 
two  others  were  with  him,  was  a  feint.  He  answered  all  my 
companion's  questions  with  perfect  freedom ;  told  him  that  he 
had  no  doubt  of  his  father's  having  been  picked  up,  as  there 
were  no  less  than  five  sail  in  sight  just  before  sundown  on  the 
day  he  was  cut  adrift ;  and  used  other  language  of  a  consolatory 
nature,  which  occasioned  me  no  less  surprise  than  pleasure. 
Indeed,  I  began  to  entertain  hope?,  that  through  the  instrument- 
ality of  Peters  we  might  be  finally  enabled  to  regain  possession 
of  the  brig,  and  this  idea  I  mentioned  to  Augustus  as  soon  as  I 
found  an  opportunity.  He  thought  the  matter  possible,  but  urged 
the  necessity  of  the  greatest  caution  in  making  the  attempt,  as 
the  conduct  of  the  hybrid  appeared  to  be  instigated  by  the  most 
arbitrary  caprice  alone ;  and,  indeed,  it  was  difficult  to  say  if  he 


6-4  NARRATIVE   OF 

was  at  any  moment  of  sound  mind.  Peters  went  upon  deck  in 
about  an  hour,  and  did  not  return  again  until  noon,  when  he 
brought  Augustus  a  plentiful  supply  of  junk  beef  and  pudding 
Of  this,  when  we  were  left  alone,  I  partook  heartily,  without 
returning  through  the  hole.  No  one  else  came  down  into  the 
forecastle  during  the  day,  and  at  night  I  got  into  Augustus's 
berth,  where  I  slept  soundly  and  sweetly  until  nearly  daybreak 
when  he  awakened  me  upon  hearing  a  stir  upon  deck,  and  I  re- 
gained my  hiding-place  as  quickly  as  possible.  When  the  day 
was  fully  broke,  we  found  that  Tiger  had  recovered  his  strength 
almost  entirely,  and  gave  no  indications  of  hydrophobia,  drinking 
a  little  water  that  was  offered  him  with  great  apparent  eagerness. 
During  the  day  he  regained  all  his  former  vigor  and  appetite. 
His  strange  conduct  had  been  brought  on,  no  doubt,  by  the  de- 
leterious quality  of  the  air  of  the  hold,  and  had  no  connection 
with  canine  madness.  I  could  not  sufficiently  i-ejoice  that  I  had 
persisted  in  bringing  him  with  me  from  the  box.  This  day  was 
the  thirtieth  of  June,  and  the  thirteenth  since  the  Grampus  made 
sail  from  Nantucket. 

On  the  second  of  July  the  mate  came  below,  drunk  as  usual, 
and  in  an  excessively  good-humor.  He  came  to  Augustus's 
berth,  and,  giving  him  a  slap  on  the  back,  asked  him  if  he  thought 
he  could  behave  himself  if  he  let  him  loose,  and  whether  he  would 
promise  not  to  be  going  into  the  cabin  again.  To  this,  of  course, 
my  friend  answered  in  the  affirmative,  when  the  ruffian  set  him  at 
liberty,  after  making  him  drink  from  a  flask  of  rum  which  he  drew 
from  his  coat-pocket.  Both  now  went  on  deck,  and  I  did  not  see 
Augustus  for  about  three  hours.  lie  then  came  below  with  the 
good  news  that  he  had  obtained  permission  to  go  about  the  brig 
as  he  pleased  anywhere  forward  of  the  mainmast,  and  that  he 
had  been  ordered  to  sleep,  as  usual,  in  the  forecastle.  He 
brought  me,  too,  a  good  dinner,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  water 
The  brig  was  still  cruising  for  the  vessel  from  the  Cape  Verds,  and 
a  sail  was  now  in  sight,  which  was  thought  to  be  the  one  in  ques- 
tion. As  the  events  of  the  ensuing  eight  days  were  of  little  im- 
portance, and  had  no  direct  bearing  upon  the  main  incidents  of 
my  narrative,  I  will  here  throw  them  into  the  form  of  a  journal 
as  I  do  not  wish  to  omit  them  altogether 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  65 

fitly  3.  Augustus  furnished  me  with  three  blankets,  with  whi^h 
I  contrived  a  comfortable  bed  in  my  hiding-place.  No  one  came 
below,  except  my  companion,  during  the  day.  Tiger  took  his 
station  in  the  berth  just  by  the  aperture,  and  slept  heavily,  as  if 
not  yet  entirely  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  sickness. 
Towards  night  a  flaw  of  wind  struck  the  brig  before  sail  could 
be  taken  in,  and  very  nearly  capsized  her.  The  puff  died  away 
immediately,  however,  and  no  damage  was  done  beyond  the 
sj  litting  of  the  foretopsail.  Dirk  Peters  treated  Augustus  all 
this  day  with  great  kindness,  and  entered  into  a  long  conversa- 
tion with  him  respecting  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  the  islands  he  had 
visited  in  that  region.  He  asked  him  whether  he  would  not  like  to 
so  with  the  mutineers  on  a  kind  of  exploring  and  pleasure  voyage 
in  those  quarters,  and  said  that  the  men  were  gradually  coming 
over  to  the  mate's  views.  To  this  Augustus  thought  it  best  to  reply 
that  he  would  be  glad  to  go  on  such  an  adventure,  since  nothing  better 
could  be  done,  and  that  anything  was  preferable  to  a  piratical  life 

July  4:th.  The  vessel  in  sight  proved  to  be  a  small  brig  from 
Liverpool,  and  was  allowed  to  pass  unmolested.  Augustus  spent 
most  of  his  time  on  deck,  with  a  view  of  obtaining  all  the  in- 
rormation  in  his  power  respecting  the  intentions  of  the  mutineers. 
They  had  frequent  and  violent  quarrels  among  themselves,  in 
one  of  which  a  harpooner,  Jim  Bonner,  was  thrown  overboard. 
The  party  of  the  mate  was  gaining  ground.  Jim  Bonner  be- 
longed to  the  cook's  gang,  of  which  Peters  was  a  partisan. 

July  6th.  About  daybreak  there  came  on  a  stiff  breeze  from 
the  west,  which  at  noon  freshened  into  a  gale,  so  that  the  brig 
could  carry  nothing  more  than  her  trysail  and  foresail.  In  tak- 
ing in  the  foretopsail,  Simms,  one  of  the  common  hands,  and 
belonging  also  to  the  cock's  gang,  fell  overboard,  being  very 
much  in  liquor,  and  was  drowned — no  attempt  being  made  to 
save  him.  The  whole  number  of  persons  on  board  was  now 

thirteen,  to  wit  :   Dirk  Peters ;  Seymour,  the  black  cook  ; 

Jones; Greely  ;  Hartman   Rogers;  and  William  Allen,  of 

the  cook's  party  ;  the  mate,  whose  name  I  never  learned  ;  Ab- 
salom  Hicks;  Wilson;  John  Hunt;  and  Richard  Parker, 

of  the  mate's  party — besides  Augustus  and  myself. 

July  Cith.   The    gale  lasted  all  this  day,   blowing   in  heavy 


66  NARRATIVE  OF 

squalls,  accompanied  with  rain.  The  brig  took  in  a  good  deal 
of  water  through  her  seams,  and  one  Df  the  pumps  was  kept 
continually  going,  Augustus  being  forced  to  take  his  turn.  Just 
at  twilight  a  large  ship  passed  close  by  us,  without  having  been 
discovered  until  within  hail.  This  ship  was  supposed  to  be  the 
one  for  which  the  mutineers  were  on  the  look-out.  The  mate 
hailed  her,  but  the  reply  was  drowned  in  the  roaring  of  the  gale. 
At  eleven,  a  sea  was  shipped  amid-ships,  which  tore  away  a 
great  portion  of  the  larboard  bulwarks,  and  did  some  other 
slight  damage.  Towards  morning  the  weather  moderated,  and 
at  sunrise  there  was  very  little  wind. 

July  7th.  There  was  a  heavy  swell  running  all  this  day,  dur- 
ing which  the  brig,  being  light,  rolled  excessively,  and  many 
articles  broke  loose  in  the  hold,  as  I  could  hear  distinctly  from 
my  hiding-place.  I  suffered  a  great  deal  from  sea-sickness. 
Peters  had  a  long  conversation  this  day  with  Augustus,  and  told 
him  that  two  of  his  gang,  Greely  and  Allen,  had  gone  over  to 
the  mate,  and  were  resolved  to  turn  pirates.  He  put  several 
questions  to  Augustus  which  he  did  not  then  exactly  understand. 
During  a  part  of  this  evening  the  leak  gained  upon  the  vessel ; 
and  little  could  be  done  to  remedy  it,  as  it  was  occasioned  by 
the  brig's  straining,  and  taking  in  the  water  through  her  seams. 
A  sail  was  thrummed,  and  got  under  the  bows,  which  aided  us 
in  some  measure,  so  that  we  began  to  gain  upon  the  leak. 

July  8th.  A  light  breeze  sprung  up  at  sunrise  from  the  east- 
ward, when  the  mate  headed  the  brig  to  the  southwest,  with  the 
intention  of  making  some  of  the  West  India  Islands,  in  pursu- 
ance of  his  piratical  designs.  No  opposition  was  made  by  Peters 
or  the  cook — at  least  none  in  the  hearing  of  Augustus.  All  idea 
of  taking  the  vessel  from  the  Cape  Verds  was  abandoned.  The 
leak  was  now  easily  kept  under  by  one  pump  going  every  three 
quarters  of  an  hour.  The  sail  was  drawn  from  beneath  the 
bows.  Spoke  two  small  schooners  during  the  day. 

July  Wi.  Fine  weather.  All  hands  employed  in  repairing 
bulwarks.  Peters  had  again  a  long  conversation  with  Augustus, 
and  spoke  more  plainly  than  he  had  done  heretofore.  He  said 
nothing  should  induce  him  to  come  into  the  mate's  views,  and 
even  hinted  his  intention  of  taking  the  brig  out  of  his  hands. 


A..   GORDON  PYM.  67 

He  asked  my  friend  if  he  could  depend  upon  his  aid  in  such 
ease,  to  which  Augustus  said,  "Yes,"  without  hesitation.  Peters 
then  said' he  would  sound  the  others  of  his  party  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  went  away.  During  the  remainder  of  the  day  Augustus 
had  no  opportunity  of  speaking  with  him  privately. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JULY  10.  Spoke  a  brig  from  Rio,  bound  to  Norfolk.  Weather 
hazy,  with  a  light  baflling  wind  from  the  eastward.  To-day 
Hartman  Rogers  died,  having  been  attacked  on  the  eighth  with 
spasms  after  drinking  a  glass  of  grog.  This  man  was  of  the  cook's 
party,  and  one  upon  whom  Peters  placed  his  main  reliance.  He 
told  Augustus  that  he  believed  the  mate  had  poisoned  him,  and 
that  he  expected,  if  he  did  not  be  on  the  look-out,  his  own  turn 
would  come  shortly.  There  were  now  only  himself,  Jones,  and 
the  cook  belonging  to  his  own  gang — on  the  other  side  there 
were  five.  He  had  spoken  to  Jones  about  taking  the  command 
fiom  the  mate;  but  the  project  having  been  coolly  received,  he 
had  been  deterred  from  pressing  the  matter  any  further^  or  from 
saying  anything  to  the  cook.  It  was  well,  as  it  happened,  that 
he  was  so  prudent,  for  in  the  afternoon  the  cook  expressed  his 
determination  of  siding' with  the  mate,  and  went  over  formally 
to  that  party ;  while  Jones  took  an  opportunity  of  quarrelling 
with  Peters,  and  hinted  that  he  would  let  the  mate  know  of  the 
plan  in  agitation.  There  was  now,  evidently,  no  time  to  be  lost 
and  Peters  expressed  his  determination  of  attempting  to  take 
the  vessel  at  all  hazards,  provided  Augustus  would  lend  him  his 
aid.  My  friend  at  once  assured  him  of  his  willingness  to  enter 
into  any  plan  for  that  purpose,  and,  thinking  the  opportunity  a 
favorable  one,  made  known  the  fact  of  my  being  on  board.  At 
this  the  hybrid  was  not  more  astonished  than  delighted,  as  he 
had  no  reliance  whatever  upon  Jones,  whom  he  already  consid- 
ered as  belonging  to  the  party  of  the  mate.  They  went  below 
immediately,  when  Augustus  called  to  me  by  name,  and  Peters 
and  myself  were  soon  made  acquainted.  It  was  agreed  that  we 


68  NARRATIVE  OF 

should  attempt  to  retake  the  vessel  upon  the  iirst  good  opportu- 
nity, leaving  Jones  altogether  out  of  our  councils.  In  the  event 
of  success,  we  were  to  run  the  brig  into  the  first  port  that  offered, 
ind  deliver  her  up.  The  desertion  of  his  party  had  frustrated 
Peter's  design  of  going  into  the  Pacific — an  adventure  which 
?.ould  not  be  accomplished  without  a  crew,  and  he  depended 
upon  either  getting  acquitted  upon  trial,  on  the  score  of  insanity 
(which  he  solemnly  averred  had  actuated  him  in  lending  his  aid 
to  the  mutiny),  or  upon  obtaining  a  pardon,  if  found  guilty, 
through  the  representations  of  Augustus  and  myself.  Our  deli- 
berations were  interrupted  for  the  present  by  the  cry  of,  "All 
hands  take  in  sail,"  and  Peters  and  Augustus  ran  up  on  deck. 

As  usual,  the  crew  were  nearly  all  drunk ;  and,  before  sail 
could  be  properly  taken  in,  a  violent  squall  laid  the  brig  on  her 
beam-ends.  By  keeping  her  away,  however,  she  righted,  having 
shipped  a  good  deal  of  water.  Scarcely  was  everything  secure, 
when  another  squall  took  the  vessel,  and  immediately  afterward 
another — no  damage  being  done.  There  was  every  appearance 
of  a  gale  of  wind,  which,  indeed,  shortly  came  on,  with  great 
fury,  from  the  northward  and  westward.  All  was  made  as  snug 
as  possible,  and  we  laid  to,  as  usual,  under  a  close-reefed  fore- 
Bail.  As  night  drew  on,  the  wind  increased  in  violence,  with  a 
remarkably  heavy  sea.  Peters  now  came  into  the  forecastle 
with  Augustus,  and  we  resumed  our  deliberations. 

We  agreed  that  no  opportunity  could  be  more  favorable  than 
the  present  for  carrying  our  design  into  effect,  as  an  attempt  at 
such  a  moment  would  never  be  anticipated.  As  the  brig  was 
snugly  laid  to,  there  would  be  no  necessity  of  manoeuvring  her 
until  good  weather,  when,  if  we  succeeded  in  our  attempt,  we 
might  liberate  one,  or  perhaps  two  of  the  men,  to  aid  us  in  tak- 
ing her  into  port.  The  main  difficulty  was  the  great  dispropor- 
tion in  our  forces.  There  were  only  three  of  us,  and  in  the 
cabin  there  were  nine.  All  the  arms  on  board,  too,  were  in  their 
possession,  with  the  exception  of  a  pair  of  small  pistols  which 
Peters  had  concealed  about  his  person,  and  the  large  seaman's 
knife  which  he  always  wore  in  the  waistband  of  his  pantaloons. 
From  certain  indications,  too — such,  for  example,  as  there  being 
no  such  thing  as  an  axe  or  a  handspike  lying  in  their  customary 


A.  GORDON  PY.M.  69 

places — we  began  to  fear  that  the  mate  had  his  suspicions,  at 
least  in  regard  to  Peters,  and  that  he  would  let  slip  no  opportu- 
nity of  getting  rid  of  him.  It  was  clear,  indeed,  that  what  we 
should  determine  to  do  could  not  be  done  too  soon.  Still  the 
}dds  \vere  too  much  against  us  to  allow  of  our  proceeding  with- 
out the  greatest  caution. 

Peters  proposed  that  he  should  go  up  on  deck,  and  enter  into 
conversation  with  the  watch  (Allen),  when  he  would  be  able  to 
throw  him  into  the  sea  without  trouble,  and  without  making  any 
disturbance,  by  seizing  a  good  opportunity ;  that  Augustus  and 
myself  should  then  come  up,  and  endeavor  to  provide  ourselves 
with  some  kind  of  weapons  from  the  deck ;  and  that  we  should 
then  make  a  rush  together,  and  secure  the  companion-way  be- 
fore any  opposition  could  be  offered.  I  objected  to  this,  because 
I  could  not  believe  that  the  mate  (who  was  a  cunning  fellow  in 
all  matters  which  did  not  affect  his  superstitious  prejudices) 
would  suffer  himself  to  be  so  easily  entrapped.  The  very  fact 
of  there  being  a  watch  on  deck  at  all  was  sufficient  proof  that 
he  was  upon  the  alert — it  not  being  usual,  except  in  vessels 
where  discipline  is  most  rigidly  enforced,  to  station  a  watch  on 
deck  when  a  vessel  is  lying  to  in  a  gale  of  wind.  As  I  address 
myself  principally,  if  not  altogether,  to  persons  who  have  never 
been  to  sea,  it  may  be  as  well  to  state  the  exact  condition  of  a 
vessel  under  such  circumstances.  Lying  to,  or,  in  sea-parlance, 
"  laying  to,"  is  a  measure  resorted  to  for  various  purposes,  and 
effected  in  various  manners.  In  moderate  weather,  it  is  fre- 
quently done  with  a  view  of  merely  bringing  the  vessel  to  a 
stand-still,  to  wait  for  another  vessel,  or  any  similar  object.  It 
the  vessel  which  lies  to  is  under  full  sail,  the  manoeuvre  is  usu- 
ally accomplished  by  throwing  round  some  portion  of  her  sails, 
so  as  to  let  the  wind  take  them  aback,  when  she  becomes  sta- 
tionary. But  we  are  now  speaking  of  lying  to  in  a  gale  of  winds 
This  is  done  when  the  wind  is  ahead,  and  too  violent  to  admit 
of  carrying  sail  without  danger  of  capsizing ;  and  sometimes 
even  when  the  wind  is  fair,  but  the  sea  too  heavy  for  the  vessel 
to  be  put  before  it.  If  a  vessel  be  suffered  to  scud  before  the 
wind  in  a  very  heavy  sea,  much  damage  is  usually  done  her  by 
the  shipping  of  water  over  her  stern,  and  sometimes  by  the  vie 


70  NARRATIVE  OF 

lent  plunges  she  makes  forward.  This  manoeuvre,  then,  is  sel- 
dom resorted  to  in  such  case,  unless  through  necessity.  When 
the  vessel  is  in  a  leaky  condition,  she  is  often  put  before  the 
wind  even  in  the  heaviest  seas;  for,  when  lying  to,  her  scams 
are  sure  to  be  greatly  opened  by  her  violent  straining,  and  it  is 
not  so  much  the  case  when  scudding.  Often,  too,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  scud  a  vessel,  either  when  the  blast  is  so  exceeding- 
ly furious  as  to  tear  in  pieces  the  sail  which  is  employed  with  a 
view  of  bringing  her  head  to  the  wind,  or  when,  through  the 
false  modelling  of  the  frame  or  other  causes,  this  main  object 
cannot  be  effected. 

Vessels  in  a  gale  of  wind  are  laid  to  in  different  manners, 
according  to  their  peculiar  construction.  Some  lie  to  best  under 
a  foresail,  and  this,  I  believe,  is  the  sail  most  usually  employed. 
Large  square-rigged  vessels  have  sails  for  the  express  purpose, 
called  storm-staysails.  But  the  jib  is  occasionally  employed  by 
itself — sometimes  the  jib  and  foresail,  or  a  double-reefed  foresail, 
and  not  unfrequently  the  aftersails,  are  made  use  of.  Foretop- 
sails  are  very  often  found  to  answer  the^urpose  better  than  any 
other  species  of  sail.  The  Grampus  was  generally  laid  to  under 
a  close-reefed  foresail. 

When  a  vessel  is  to  be  laid  to,  her  head  is  brought  up  to  the 
wind  just  so  nearly  as  to  fill  the  sail  under  which  she  lies,  when 
hauled  flat  aft,  that  is,  when  brought  diagonally  across  the  vessel. 
This  being  done,  the  bows  point  within  a  few  degrees  of  the 
direction  from  which  the  wind  issues,  and  the  windward  bow  of 
course  receives  the  shock  of  the  waves.  In  this  situation  a  good 
vessel  will  ride  out  a  very  heavy  gale  of  wind  without  shipping 
a  drop  of  water,  and  without  any  further  attention  being  requisite 
on  the  part  of  the  crew.  The  helm  is  usually  lashed  down,  but 
this  is  altogether  unnecessary  (except  on  account  of  the  noise  it 
makes  when  loose),  for  the  rudder  has  no  effect  upon  the  vessel 
when  lying  to.  Indeed,  the  helm  had  far  better  be  left  loose  than 
lashed  very  fast,  for  the  rudder  is  apt  to  be  torn  off  by  heavy 
seas  if  there  be  no  room  for  the  helm  to  play.  As  long  as  the 
sail  holds,  a  well-modelled  vessel  will  maintain  her  situation,  and 
ride  every  sea,  as  if  instinct  with  life  and  reason.  If  the  violence 
cf  the  wind,  however,  should  tear  the  sail  into  pieces  (a  feal 


A.  GORDO.N  PYM  71 

which  it  requires  a  perfect  hurricane  to  accomplish  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances),  there  is  then  imminent  danger.  The  vessel 
falls  off  from  the  wind,  and,  coming  broadside  to  the  sea,  is  com- 
pletely at  its  mercy  :  the  only  resource  in  this  case  is  to  put  her 
quietly  before  the  wind,  letting  her  scud  until  some  other  sail  can 
be  set.  Some  vessels  will  lie  to  under  no  sail  whatever,  but  such 
are  not  to  be  trusted  at  sea. 

But  to  return  from  this  digression.  It  had  never  been  custom- 
ary with  the  mate  to  have  any  watch  on  deck  when  lying  to  in  a 
gale  of  wind,  and  the  fact  that  he  had  now  one,  coupled  with  the 
circumstance  of  the  missing  axes  and  handspikes,  fully  convinced 
us  that  the  crew  were  too  well  on  the  watch  to  be  taken  by  sur- 
prise in  the  manner  Peters  had  suggested.  Something,  however, 
was  to  be  done,  and  that  with  as  little  delay  as  practicable,  for 
there  could  be  no  doubt  that  a  suspicion  having  been  once  enter- 
tained against  Peters,  he  would  be  sacrificed  upon  the  earliest 
occasion,  and  one  would  certainly  be  either  found  or  made  upon 
the  breaking  of  the  gale. 

Augustus  now  suggested  that  if  Peters  could  contrive  to  re- 
move, under  any  pretext,  the  piece  of  chain-cable  which  lay  over 
the  trap  in  the  state-room,  we  might  possibly  be  able  to  come 
upon  them  unawares  by  means  of  the  hold ;  but  a  little  reflection 
convinced  us  that  the  vessel  rolled  and  pitched  too  violently  for 
any  attempt  of  that  nature. 

By  good  fortune  I  at  length  hit  upon  the  idea  of  working  upon 
the  superstitious  terrors  and  guilty  conscience  of  the  mate.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  one  of  the  crew,  Hartman  Rogers,  had 
died  during  the  morning,  having  been  attacked  two  days  before 
with  spasms  after  drinking  some  spirits  and  water.  Peters  had 
expressed  to  us  his  opinion  that  this  man  had  been  poisoned  by 
the  mate,  and  for  this  belief  he  had  reasons,  so  he  said,  which 
were  incontrovertible,  but  which  lie  could  not  be  prevailed  upon 
to  explain  to  us — this  wayward  refusal  being  only  in  keeping 
with  other  points  of  his  singular  character.  But  whether  or  not 
he  had  any  better  grounds  for  suspecting  the  mate  than  we  had 
ourselves,  we  were  easily  led  to  fall  in  with  his  suspicion,  and 
determined  to  act  accordingly. 

Rogers  had  died  about  eleven  in  the  fovenoon,  in  violent  con 


72  NARRATIVE  OF 

vulsions ;  and  the  corpse  presented  in  a  few  minutes  after  deaih 
one  of  the  most  horrid  and  loathsome  spectacles  I  ever  remember 
lo  have  seen.  The  stomach  was  swollen  immensely,  like  that  of 
a  man  who  has  been  drowned  and  lain  under  water  for  many 
weeks.  The  hands  were  in  the  same  condition,  while  the  face 
was  shrunken,  shrivelled,  and  of  a  chalky  whiteness,  except  where 
relieved  by  two  or  three  glaring  red  splotches,  like  those  occa- 
sioned by  the  erysipelas  :  one  of  these  splotches  extended  diago- 
nally across  the  face,  completely  covering  up  an  eye  as  if  with  a 
band  of  red  velvet.  In  this  disgusting  condition  the  body  had 
been  brought  up  from  the  cabin  at  noon  to  be  thrown  overboard, 
when  the  mate  getting  a  glimpse  of  it  (for  he  now  saw  it  for  the 
first  time),  and  being  either  touched  with  remorse  for  his  crime 
or  struck  with  terror  at  so  horrible  a  sight,  ordered  the  men  to 
sew  the  body  up  in  its  hammock,  and  allow  it  the  usual  rites  of 
sea-burial.  Having  given  these  directions,  he  went  below,  as  if 
to  avoid  any  further  sight  of  his  victim.  While  preparations  were 
making  to  obey  his  orders,  the  gale  came  on  with  great  fury,  and 
the  design  was  abandoned  for  the  present.  The  corpse,  left  to 
itself,  was  washed  into  the  larboard  scuppers,  where  it  still  lay 
at  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  floundering  about  with  the  furious 
lurches  of  the  brig. 

Having  arranged  our  plan,  we  set  about  putting  it  in  execution 
as  speedily  as  possible.  Peters  went  upon  deck,  and,  as  he  had 
anticipated,  was  immediately  accosted  by  Allen,  who  appeared  to 
be  stationed  more  as  a  watch  upon  the  forecastle  than  for  any 
other  purpose.  The  fate  of  this  villain,  however,  was  speedily 
and  silently  decided  ;  for  Peters,  approaching  him  in  a  careless 
manner,  as  if  about  to  address  him,  seized  him  by  the  throat,  and, 
before  he  could  utter  a  single  cry,  tossed  him  over  the  bulwarks. 
He  then  called  to  us,  and  we  came  up.  Our  first  precaution  waa 
to  look  about  for  something  with  which  to  arm  ourselves,  and  in 
doing  this  we  had  to  proceed  with  great  care,  for  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  stand  on  deck  an  instant  without  holding  fast,  and  violent 
seas  broke  over  the  vessel  at  every  plunge  forward.  It  was  in- 
dispensable, too,  that  we  should  be  quick  in  our  operations,  for 
every  minute  we  expected  the  mate  to  be  up  to  set  the  pumps 
going,  as  it  was  evident  the  brig  must  be  taking  in  water  very 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  73 

fast.  After  searching  about  for  somo  time,  we  could  find  nothing 
more  fit  for  our  purpose  than  the  two  pump-handles,  one  of  which 
Augustus  took,  and  I  the  other.  Having  secured  these,  we 
stripped  off  the  shirt  of  the  corpse  and  dropped  the  body  over- 
board. Peters  and  myself  then  went  below,  leaving  Augustus  to 
watch  upon  deck,  where  he  took  his  station  just  where  Allen  had 
been  placed,  and  with  his  back  to  the  cabin  companion-way,  so 
that,  if  any  one  of  the  mate's  gang  should  come  up,  he  might 
suppose  it  was  the  watch. 

As  soon  as  I  got  below  I  commenced  disguising  myself  so  as 
to  represent  the  corpse  of  Rogers.  The  shirt  which  we  had 
taken  from  the  body  aided  us  very  much,  for  it  was  of  singular 
form  and  character,  and  easily  recognizable — a  kind  of  smock, 
which  the  deceased  wore  over  his  other  clothing.  It  was  a  blue 
stockinett,  with  large  white  stripes  running  across.  Having  put 
this  on,  I  proceeded  to  equip  myself  with  a  false  stomach,  in  im- 
itation of  the  horrible  deformity  of  the  swollen  corpse.  This  was 
soon  effected  by  means  of  stuffing  with  some  bedclothes.  I  then 
gave  the  same  appearance  to  my  hands  by  drawing  on  a  pair  of 
white  woollen  mittens,  and  filling  them  in  with  any  kind  of  rags  that 
offered  themselves.  Peters  then  arranged  my  face,  first  rubbing 
it  well  over  with  white  chalk,  and  afterwards  splotching  it  with 
blood,  which  he  took  from  a  cut  in  his  finger.  The  streak  across 
the  eye  was  not  forgotten,  and  presented  a  most  shocking  ap- 
pearance. 


CHAPTEPv  VIII. 

As  I  viewed  myself  in  a  fragment  of  looking-glass  which  hung 
up  in  the  cabin,  and  by  the  dim  light  of  a  kind  of  battle-lantern, 
I  was  so  impressed  with  a  sense  of  vague  awe  at  my  appearance, 
and  at  the  recollection  of  the  terrific  reality  which  I  was  thus 
representing,  that  I  was  seized  with  a  violent  tremor,  and  could 
scarcely  summon  resolution  to  go  on  with  my  part.  It  was  ne- 
cessary, however,  to  act  with  decision,  and  Peters  and  myself 
went  upon  deck. 


74  NARRATIVE  OF 

"We  there  found  everything  safe,  and,  keeping  close  to  flic  bul- 
warks, the  three  of  us  crept  to  the  cabin  companion-way.  It  was 
Only  partially  closed,  precautions  having  been  taken  to  prevent 
its  being  suddenly  pushed  to  from  without,  by  means  of  placing 
billets  of  wood  on  the  upper  step  so  as  to  interfere  with  the 
shutting.  We  found  no  difficulty  in  getting  a  full  view  of  the 
interior  of  the  cabin  through  the  cracks  where  the  hinges  were 
placed.  It  now  proved  to  have  been  very  fortunate  for  us  that 
we  had  not  attempted  to  take  them  by  surprise,  for  they  were 
evidently  on  the  alert.  Only  .one  was  asleep,  and  he  lying 
just  at  the  foot  of  the  companion-ladder,  with  a  musket  by  his 
side.  The  rest  were  seated  on  several  mattresses,  which  had 
been  taken  from  the  berths  and  thrown  on  the  floor.  They  were 
engaged  in  earnest  conversation ;  and  although  they  had  been 
carousing,  as  appeared  from  two  empty  jugs,  with  some  tin  tum- 
blers which  lay  about,  they  were  not  as  much  intoxicated  as 
usual.  All  had  knives,  one  or  two  of  them  pistols,  and  a  great 
many  muskets  were  lying  in  a  berth  close  at  hand. 

We  listened  to  their  conversation  for  some  time  before  we 
could  make  up  our  minds  how  to  act,  having  as  yet  resolved  on 
nothing  determinate,  except  that  we  would  attempt  to  paralyze 
their  exertions,  when  we  should  attack  them,  by  means  of  the 
apparition  of  Rogers.  They  were  discussing  their  piratical  plans, 
in  which  all  we  could  hear  distinctly  was,  that  they  would  unite 
with  the  crew  of  a  schooner  Hornet,  and,  if  possible,  get  the 
schooner  herself  into  their  possession  preparatory  to  some  attempt 
on  a  large  scale,  the  particulars  of  which  could  not  be  made  out 
by  either  of  us. 

One  of  the  men  spoke  of  Peters,  when  the  mate  replied  to  him 
in  a  low  voice  which  could  not  be  distinguished,  and  afterward 
added  more  loudly,  that  "  he  could  not  understand  his  being  so 
much  forward  with  the  captain's  brat  in  the  forecastle,  and  he 
thought  thf  sooner  both  of  them  were  overboard  the  better."  To 
this  no  answer  was  made,  but  we  could  easily  perceive  that  the 
hint  was  well  received  by  the  whole  party,  and  more  particularly 
by  Jones.  At  this  period  I  was  excessively  agitated,  the  more 
so  as  I  could  see  that  neither  Augustus  nor  Peters  could  deter- 
mine how  to  act.  I  made  up  my  mind,  however,  to  sail  my  life 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  75 

as  dearly  as  possible,  and  not  to  suffer  myself  to  be  overcome  by 
any  feelings  ot  trepidation. 

The  tremendous  noise  made  by  the  roaring  of  the  wind  in  the 
rigging,  and  the  washing  of  the  sea  over  the  deck,  prevented  us 
from  hearing  what  was  said,  except  during  momentary  lulls.  In 
one  of  these,  we  all  distinctly  heard  the  mate  tell  one  of  the 
men  to  "  go  forward,  and  order  the  d — d  lubbers  to  come  into 
the  cabin,  where  he  could  have  an  eye  upon  them,  for  he  wanted 
no  such  secret  doings  on  board  the  brig."  It  was  well  for  us 
that  the  pitching  of  the  vessel  at  this  moment  was  so  violent  as 
to  prevent  this  order  from  being  carried  into  instant  execution. 
The  cook  got  up  from  his  mattress  to  go  for  us,  when  a  tremen- 
dous lurch,  which  I  thought  would  cany  away  the  masts,  threw 
him  headlong  against  one  of  the  larboard  state-room  doors,  burst- 
ing it  open,  and  creating  a  good  deal  of  other  confusion.  Luck- 
ily, neither  of  our  party  was  thrown  from  his  position,  and  we 
had  time  to  make  a  precipitate  retreat  to  the  forecastle,  and  ar- 
range a  hurried  plan  of  action  before  the  messenger  made  his 
appearance,  or  rather  before  he  put  his  head  out  of  the  ccinpa- 
nion-hatch,  for  he  did  not  come  on  deck.  From  this  station  he 
could  not  notice  the  absence  of  Allen,  and  he  accordingly  Uivvled 
out,  as  if  to  him,  repeating  the  orders  of  the  mate.  Peteis  cried 
out,  "Ay,  ay,"  in  a  disguised  voice,  and  the  cook  immediately 
went  below,  without  entertaining  a  suspicion  that  all  wns  not 
right. 

My  two  companions  now  proceeded  boldly  aft  and  down  into 
the  cabin,  Peters  closing  the  door  after  him  in  the  same  manner 
he  had  found  it.  The  mate  received  thera  with  feigned  cordial- 
ity, and  told  Augustus  that,  since  he  bad  behaved  himself  so  well 
of  late,  he  might  take  up  his  quarters  in  the  cabin,  and  be  one 
of  them  for  the  future.  He  then  poured  him  out  a  tumbler  balf 
full  of  rum,  and  made  him  drink  it.  All  this  I  saw  and  h  ard, 
for  I  followed  my  friends  to  the  cabin  as  soon  as  the  dooi  was 
phut,  and  took  up  my  old  point  of  observation.  I  had  brought 
with  me  the  two  pump-handles,  one  of  which  I  secured  neur  the 
companion-way,  to  be  ready  for  use  when  required. 

I  now  steadied  myself  as  well  as  possible  so  as  to  have  a  good 
view  of  all  that  was  passing  within,  and  endeavored  to  nerve 


yg  NARRATIVE  OF 

myself  to  the  task  of  descending  among  the  mutineers  when  TV. 
ters  should  make  a  signal  to  me,  as  agreed  upon.  Presently  he 
contrived  to  turn  the  conversation  upon  the  bloody  deeds  of  the 
mutiny,  and,  by  degrees,  led  the  men  to  talk  of  the  thousand 
superstitions  which  are  so  universally  current  among  seamen 
I  could  not  make  out  all  that  was  said,  but  I  could  plainly  see 
the  effects  of  the  conversation  in  the  countenances  of  those  pre- 
sent. The  mate  was  evidently  much  agitated,  and  presently, 
when  some  one  mentioned  the  terrific  appearance  of  Eogers's 
corpse,  I  thought  he  was  upon  the  point  of  swooning.  Peters 
now  asked  him  if  he  did  not  think  it  would  be  better  to  have 
the  body  thrown  overboard  at  once,  as  it  was  too  horrible  a  sight 
to  see  it  floundering  about  in  the  scuppers.  At  this  the  villain 
absolutely  gasped  for  breath,  and  turned  his  head  slowly  round 
upon  his  companions,  as  if  imploring  some  one  to  go  up  and  per- 
form the  task.  No  one,  however,  stirred,  and  it  was  quite  evi- 
dent that  the  whole  party  were  wound  up  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  nervous  excitement.  Peters  now  made  me  the  signal.  I 
immediately  threw  open  the  door  of  the  companion-way,  and, 
descending,  without  uttering  a  syllable,  stood  erect  in  the  midst 
of  the  party. 

The  intense  effect  produced  by  this  sudden  apparition  is  not 
at  all  to  be  wondered  at  when  the  various  circumstances  are 
taken  into  consideration.  Usually,  in  case*  of  a  similar  nature> 
there  is  left  in  the  mind  of  the  spectator  some  glimmering  oi 
doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the  vision  before  his  eyes  ;  a  degree 
of  hope,  however  feeble,  that  he  is  the  victim  of  chicanery,  and 
that  the  apparition  is  not  actually  a  visitant  from  the  world  of 
shadows.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  such  remnants  of  doubl 
have  been  at  the  bottom  of  almost  every  such  visitation,  and  that 
the  appalling  horror  which  has  sometimes  been  brought  about, 
is  to  be  attributed,  even  in  the  cases  .most  in  point,  and  where 
most  suffering  has  been  experienced,  more  to  a  kind  of  anticipa- 
tive  horror,  lest  the  apparition  might  possibly  be  real,  than  to  an 
unwavering  belief  in  its  reality.  But,  in  the  present  instance, 
it  vill  be  seen  immediately,  that  in  the  minds  of  the  mutineer* 
there  was  not  even  the  shadow  of  a  basis  upon  which  to  rest  a 
doubt  that  the  apparition  of  Rogers  was  indeed  a  revivification 


A.  GORDON  PYM  77 

tf  LIs  disgusting  corpse,  or  at  least  its  spiritual  imno'e.  The 
isolated  situation  of  the  brig,  with  its  entire  inaccessibility  on 
account  of  the  gale,  confined  the  apparently  possible  means  of 
deception  within  such  narrow  and  definite  limits,  that  they  must 
have  thought  themselves  enabled  to  survey  them  all  at  a  glance. 
They  had  now  been  at  sea  twenty-four  days,  without  holding 
more  than  a  speaking  communication  with  any  vessel  whatever. 
The  whole  of  the  crew,  too — at  least  all  whom  they  had  the  most 
remote  reason  for  suspecting  to  be  on  board — were  assembled  in 
the  cabin,  with  the  exception  of  Allen,  the  watch;  and  his  gigan- 
tic stature  (he  was  six  feet  six  inches  high)  was  too  familiar  in 
their  eyes  to  permit  the  notion  that  he  was  the  apparition  before 
them  to  enter  their  minds  even  for  an  instant.  Add  to  these 
considerations  the  awe-inspiring  nature  of  the  tempest,  and  that 
of  the  conversation  brought  about  by  Peters  ;  the  deep  impres- 
sion which  the  loathsomeness  of  the  actual  corpse  had  made  in 
the  morning  upon  the  imaginations  of  the  men  ;  the  excellence 
of  the  imitation  in  my  person,  and  the  uncertain  and  wavering 
light  in  which  they  beheld  me,  as  the  glare  of  the  cabin  lantern, 
swinging  violently  to  and  fro,  fell  dubiously  and  fitfully  upon  my 
figure,  and  there  will  be  no  reason  to  wonder  that  the  deception 
had  even  more  than  the  entire  effect  which  we  had  anticipated. 
The  mate  sprang  up  from  the  mattress  on  which  he  was  lying, 
and,  without  uttering  a  syllable,  fell  back,  stone  dead,  upon  the 
cabin  floor,  and  was  hurled  to  the  leeward  like  a  log  by  a  heavy 
roll  of  the  brig.  Of  the  remaining  seven,  there  were  but  three 
who  had  at  first  any  degree  of  presence  of  mind.  The  four 
olhers  sat  for  some  time  rooted  apparently  to  the  floor — the  most 
pitiable  objects  of  horror  and  utter  despair  my  eyes  ever  en- 
countered. The  only  opposition  we  experienced  at  all  was  from 
the  cook,  John  Hunt,  and  Richard  Parker;  but  they  made  but 
a  feeble  and  irresolute  defence.  The  two  former  were  ehot  in- 
stantly by  Peters,  and  I  felled  Parker  with  a  blow  on  the  head 
from  the  pump-handle  which  I  had  brought  with  me.  In  the 
mean  time,  Augustus  seized  one  of  the  muskets  lying  on  tha 

floor,    and  shot  another  mutineer  ( Wilson)  through   the 

breast.  There  were  now  but  three  remaining;  but  by  this  tirn» 
tlM'y  had  become  aroused  from  their  lethargy,  and  perhaps  bo- 


78  NARRATIVE  OF 

gan  to  see  that  a  deception  had  been  practised  upon  them,  for 
they  fought  with  great  resolution  and  fury,  and,  but  for  the 
immense  muscular  strength  of  Peters,  might  have  ultimately  got 

the  better  of  us.    These  three  men  were  — —Jones, Gree« 

ly,  and  Absalom  Hicks.  Jones  had  thrown  Augustus  on  the 
floor,  stabbed  him  in  several  places  along  the  right  arm,  and 
would  no  doubt  have  soon  dispatched  him  (as  neither  Peters 
nor  myself  could  immediately  gat  rid  of  our  own  antagonists), 
had  it  not  been  for  the  timely  aid  of  a  friend,  upon  whose  assist- 
ance we,  surely,  had  never  depended.  This  friend  was  no  other 
than  Tiger.  With  a  low  growl,  he  bounded  into  the  cabin,  at  a 
most  critical  moment  for  Augustus,  and,  throwing  himself  upon 
Jones,  pinned  him  to  the  floor  in  an  instant.  My  friend,  how- 
ever, was  now  too  much  injured  to  render  us  any  aid  whatever, 
and  I  was  so  encumbered  with  my  disguise  that  I  could  do  but 
little.  The  dog  would  not  leave  his  hold  upon  the  throat  of 
Jones — Peters,  nevertheless,  was  fai  more  than  a  match  for  the 
two  men  who  remained,  and  would,  no  doubt,  have  dispatched 
them  sooner,  had  it  not  been  for  the  narrow  space  in  which  he 
had  to  act,  and  the  tremendous  lurches  of  the  vessel.  Presently 
he  was  enabled  to  get  hold  of  a  heavy  stool,  several  of  which  lay 
about  the  floor.  AVith  this  he  beat  out  the  brains  of  Greely  as 
he  was  in  the  act  of  discharging  a  musket  at  me,  and  imme- 
diately afterward  a  roll  of  the  brig  throwing  him  in  contact  \rith 
Hicks,  he  seized  him  by  the  throat,  and,  by  dint  of  sheer  strength, 
strangled  him  instantaneously.  Thus,  in  far  less  time  than  I 
have  taken  to  tell  it,  we  found  ourselves  masters  of  the  brig. 

The  only  person  of  our  opponents  who  was  left  alive  was 
Richard  Parker.  This  man,  it  will  be  remembered,  I  had 
knocked  down  with  a  blow  from  the  pump-handle  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  attack.  He  now  lay  motionless  by  the  door 
of  the  shattered  state-room;  but,  upon  Peter?  touching  him  with 
his  foot,  he  spoke,  and  entreated  for  mercy.  His  head  was  only 
slightly  cut,  and  otherwise  he  had  received  no  injury,  having  been 
merely  stunned  by  the  blow.  He  now  got  up,  and,  for  the  pre- 
sent, we  secured  his  hands  behind  his  back.  The  dog  was  stiL 
growling  over  Jones ;  but,  upon  examination,  we  found  him  com- 
pletely dead,  the  blood  issuing  in  a  stream  from  a  deep  vvouud 


\.  GORDON  PYM.  79 

in  the  throat,  inflicted,  no  doubt,  by  the  sharp  teeth  of  the  ani- 
mal. 

It  was  now  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  wind 
was  still  blowing  tiemendously.  The  brig  evidently  labored 
much  more  than  irsual,  and  it  became  absolutely  necessary  that 
something  should  be  done  with  a  view  of  easing  her  in  some 
measure.  At  almost  every  roll  to  leeward  she  shipped  a  sea, 
several  of  which  came  partially  down  into  the  cabin  during  our 
scuffle,  the  hatchway  having  been  left  open  by  myself  when  I 
descended.  The  entire  range  of  bulwarks  to  larboard  had  been 
swept  away,  as  well  as  the  caboose,  together  with  the  jollyboat 
from  the  counter.  The  creaking  and  working  of  the  mainmast, 
too,  gave  indication  that  it  was  nearly  sprung.  To  make  room 
for  more  stowage  in  the  after  hold,  the  heel  of  this  mast  had 
been  stepped  between  decks  (a  very  reprehensible  practice,  occa- 
sionally resorted  to  by  ignorant  ship-builders),  so  th.it  it  was  in 
imminent  danger  of  working  from  its  step.  But,  to  crown  all 
our  difficulties,  we  plummed  the  well,  and  found  no  less  than 
seven  feet  water. 

Leaving  the  bodies  of  the  crew  lying  in  the  cabin,  we  got  to 
work  immediately  at  the  pumps — Parker,  of  course,  being  set  at 
liberty  to  assist  us  in  the  labor.  Augustus's  arm  was  bound  up  as 
well  as  we  could  effect  it,  and  he  did  what  he  could,  but  that 
was  not  much.  However,  we  found  that  we  could  just  manage 
to  keep  the  leak  from  gaining  upon  us  by  having  one  pump  con- 
stantly going.  As  there  were  only  four  of  us,  this  was  severe 
labor  ;  but  we  endeavored  to  keep  up  our  spirits,  and  looked 
anxiously  for  daybreak,  when  we  hoped  to  lighten  the  brig  by 
cutting  away  the  mainmast. 

In  this  manner  we  passed  a  night  of  terrible  anxiety  and 
fatigue,  and.,  when  the  day  at  length  broke,  the  gale  had  neither 
abated  in  the  least,  nor  were  there  any  signs  of  its  abating.  We 
now  dragged  the  bodies  on  deck  and  threw  them  overboard. 
Our  next  care  was  to  get  rid  of  the  mainmast.  The  necessary 
preparations  having  been  made,  Peters  cut  away  at  the  masi 
(having  found  axes  in  the  cabin),  while  the  rest  of  us  stood  by 
the  stays  and  lanyards.  As  the  brig  gave  a  tremendous  lee-lurch, 
the  word  was  given  to  cut  away  the  weather-lanyards,  vjhicli 


80  NARRATIVE  OF 

being  done,  the  wholj  mass  of  wood  and  rigging  plunged  into  the 
Bea,  clear  of  the  brig,  and  without  doing  any  material  injury 
We  now  found  that  the  vessel  did  not  labor  quite  as  much  as 
before,  but  our  situation  was  still  exceedingly  precarious,  and, 
in  spite  of  the  utmost  exertions,  we  could  not  gain  upon  the  leak 
without  the  aid  of  both  pumps.  The  little  assistance  which  Au- 
gustus could  render  us  was  not  really  of  any  importance.  To 
add  to  our  distress,  a  heavy  sea,  striking  the  brig  to  windward, 
threw  her  off  several  points  from  the  wind,  and,  before  she  could 
regain  her  position,  another  broke  completely  over  her,  and 
hurled  her  full  upon  her  beam-ends.  The  ballast  now  shifted  in 
a  mass  to  leeward  (the  stowage  had  been  knocking  about  per 
fectly  at  random  for  some  time),  and  for  a  few  moments  we 
thought  nothing  could  save  us  from  capsizing.  Presently,  how- 
ever, we  partially  righted  ;  but  the  ballast  still  retaining  its 
place  to  larboard,  we  lay  so  much  along  that  it  was  useless  to 
think  of  working  the  pumps,  which  indeed  we  could  not  have 
done  much  longer  in  any  case,  as  our  hands  were  entirely  raw 
with  the  excessive  labor  we  had  undergone,  and  were  bleeding 
in  the  most  horrible  manner. 

Contrary  to  Parker's  advice,  we  now  proceeded  to  cut  away 
the  foremast,  and  at  length  accomplished  it  after  much  difficulty, 
owing  to  the  position  in  which  we  lay.  In  going  overboard  the 
wreck  took  with  it  the  bowsprit,  and  left  us  a  complete  hulk. 

So  far  we  had  had  reason  to  rejoice  in  the  escape  of  our  longboat, 
which  had  received  no  damage  from  any  of  the  huge  seas  which 
had  come  on  board.  But  we  had  not  long  to  congratulate  our- 
selves ;  for  the  foremast  having  gone,  and,  of  course,  the  fore- 
sail with  it,  by  which  the  brig  had  been  steadied,  every  sea  now 
made  a  complete  breach  over  us,  and  in  five  minutes  our  deck 
was  swept  from  stem  to  stern,  the  longboat  and  starboard  bul- 
warks torn  off,  and  even  the  windlass  shattered  into  fragments. 
It  was,  indeed,  hardly  possible  for  us  to  be  in  a  more  pitiablo 
condition. 

At  noon  there  seemed  to  be  some  slight  appearance  of  the  gale's 
abating,  but  in  this  we  were  sadly  disappointed,  for  it  only  lulled  foi 
ii  few  minutes  to  blow  with  redoubled  fury.  About  four  in  the 
afternoon  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  stand  up  against  the  vio- 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  81 

h'nce  of  the  blast ;  and,  as  the  night  clored  in  upon  us,  I  had  not  a 
shadow  of  hope  that  the  vessel  would  hold  together  until  morning 

By  midnight  we  had  settled  very  deep  in  the  water,  which  was 
now  up  to  the  orlop  deck.  The  rudder  went  soon  afterward, 
the  sea  which  tore  it  away  lifting  the  after  portion  of  the  brig 
entirely  from  the  water,  against  which  she  thumped  in  her  de- 
scent with  such  a  concussion  as  would  be  occasioned  by  going 
ashore.  We  had  all  calculated  that  the  rudder  would  hold  its 
own  to  the  last,  as  it  was  unusually  strong,  being  rigged  as  I  have 
never  seen  one  rigged  either  before  or  since.  Down  its  main 
timber  there  ran  a  succession  of  stout  iron  hooks,  and  others  in 
the  same  manner  down  the  stern-post.  Through  these  hooks 
there  extended  a  very  thick  wrought-iron  rod,  the  rudder  being 
thus  held  to  the  stern-post,  and  swinging  freely  on  the  rod.  The 
tremendous  force  of  the  sea  which  tore  it  off  may  be  estimated  by 
the  fact,  that  the  hooks  in  the  stern-post,  which  ran  entirely 
throught  it,  being  clinched  on  the  inside,  were  drawn  every  one 
of  them  completely  out  of  the  solid  wood. 

We  had  scarcely  time  to  draw  breath  after  the  violence  of  this 
shock,  when  one  of  the  most  tremendous  waves  I  had  then  ever 
known  broke  right  ou  ooard  of  us,  sweeping  the  companion-way 
clear  off,  bursting  ir  ,he  hatchways,  and  filling  every  inch  of  the 
vessel  with  water 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LUCKILY,  just  before  night,  all  four  of  us  had  lashed  ourselves 
firmly  to  the  fragments  of  the  windlass,  lying  in  this  manner  aa 
Hat  upon  the  deck,  as  possible.  This  precaution  alone  saved  us 
from  destruction.  As  it  was,  we  were  all  more  or  less  stunned 
by  the  immense  weight  of  water  which  tumbled  upon  us,  and 
which  did  not  roll  from  above  us  until  we  were  nearly  exhaust- 
ed. •  As  soon  as  I  could  recover  breath,  I  called  aloud  to  my 
companions.  Augustus  aione  replied,  saying,  "It  is  all  over 
with  us,  and  may  God  have  mercy  upon  our  souls."  By-and-by 
both  the  others  were  enabled  to  speak,  when  they  exhorted  us  to 


82  NARRATIVE  OF 

take  courage,  as  there  was  still  hope  ;  it  being  impossible,  from 
the  nature  of  the  cargo,  that  the  brig  could  go  down,  and  there 
being  every  chance  that  the  gale  would  blow  over  by  the  morn- 
ing. These  words  inspired  me  with  new  life ;  for,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  although  it  was  obvious  that  a  vessel  with  a  cargo  of 
empty  oil-casks  would  not  sink,  I  had  been  hitherto  so  confused 
in  mind  as  to  have  overlooked  this  consideration  altogether ;  and 
the  danger  which  I  had  for  some  time  regarded  as  the  most  im- 
minent was  that  of  foundering.  As  hope  revived  within  me,  I 
made  use  of  every  opportunity  to  strengthen  the  lashings  which 
held  me  to  the  remains  of  the  windlass,  and  in  this  occupation  I 
soon  discovered  that  my  companions  weve  also  busy.  The  night 
was  as  dark  as  it  could  possibly  be,  and  the  horrible  shrieking  din 
and  confusion  which  surrounded  us  it  is  useless  to  attempt  de- 
scribing. Our  deck  lay  level  with  the  sea,  or  rather  we  were 
encircled  with  a  towering  ridge  of  foam,  a  portion  of  which  swept 
over  us  every  instant.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  our  heads 
w*;re  not  fairly  out  of  water  more  than  one  second  in  three. 
Although  we  lay  close  together,  no  one  of  us  could  see  the  other, 
or,  indeed,  any  portion  of  the  brig  itself,  upon  which  we  were  so 
tempestuously  hurled  about.  At  intervals  we  called  one  to  the 
other,  thus  endeavoring  to  keep  alive  hope,  and  render  consola- 
tion and  encouragement  to  such  of  us  as  stood  most  in  need  of  it. 
The  feeble  condition  of  Augustus  made  him  an  object  of  solici- 
tude with  us  all ;  and  as,  from  the  lacerated  condition  of  his 
right  arm,  it  must  have  been  impossible  for  him  to  secure  his 
lashings  with  any  degree  of  firmness,  we  were  in  momentary  ex- 
pectation of  finding  that  he  had  gone  overboard — yet  to  render 
him  aid  was  a  thing  altogether  out  of  the  question.  Fortunately, 
his  station  was  more  secure  than  that  of  any  of  the  rest  of  us  ;  for 
the  upper  part  of  his  body  lying  just  beneath  a  portion  of  the 
shattered  windlass,  the  seas,  as  they  tumbled  in  upon  him,  were 
greatly  broken  in  their  violence.  In  any  other  situation  than 
this  (into  which  he  had  been  accidentally  thrown  after  having 
lashed  himself  in  a  very  exposed  spot)  he  must  inevitably  have 
perished  before  morning.  Owing  to  the  brig's  lying  so  much 
along,  we  were  all  less  liable  to  be  washed  off  than  otherwise 
would  have  been  the  case.*  The  heel,  as  I  have  before  stated. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  83 

was  to  larboard,  about  one  half  of  the  deck  being  constantly  under 
water.  The  seas,  therefore,  which  struck  us  to  starboard  were 
much  broken  by  the  vessel's  side,  only  reaching  us  in  fragments 
as  we  lay  flat  on  our  faces  ;  while  those  which  came  from  larboard, 
being  what  are  called  back-water  seas,  and  obtaining  little  hold 
upon  us  on  account  of  our  posture,  had  not  sufficient  force  to  drag 
us  from  our  fastenings. 

In  this  frightful  situation  we  lay  until  the  day  broke  so  as  to 
show  us  more  fully  the  horrors  which  surrounded  us.  The  brig 
was  a  mere  log,  rolling  about  at  the  mercy  of  every  wave ;  the 
gale  was  upon  the  increase,  if  anything,  blowing  indeed  a  com- 
plete hurricane,  and  there  appeared  to  us  no  earthly  prospect  of 
deliverance.  For  several  hours  we  held  on  in  silence,  expecting 
every  moment  that  our  lashings  would  either  give  way,  that  the 
remains  of  the  windlass  would  go  by  the  board,  or  that  some  of 
the  huge  seas,  which  roared  in  every  direction  around  us  and 
above  us,  would  drive  the  hulk  so  far  beneath  the  water  that  we 
should  be  drowned  before  it  could  regain  the  surface.  By  the 
mercy  of  God,  however,  we  were  preserved  from  these  imminent 
dangers,  and  about  midday  were  cheered  by  the  light  of  the. 
blessed  sun.  Shortly  afterward  we  could  perceive  a  sensible 
diminution  in  the  force  of  the  wind,  when,  now  for  the  first  time 
since  the  latter  part  of  the  evening  before,  Augustus  spoke,  ask- 
ing Peters,  who  lay  closest  to  him,  if  he  thought  there  was  any 
possibility  of  our  being  saved.  As  no  reply  was  at  first  made  to 
this  question,  we  all  concluded  that  the  hybrid  had  been  drowned 
where  he  lay  ;  but  presently,  to  our  great  joy,  he  spoke,  although 
very  feebly,  saying  that  he  was  in  great  pain,  being  so  cut  by  the 
tightness  of  his  lashings  across  the  stomach,  that  he  must  either 
find  means  of  loosening  them  or  perish,  as  it  was  impossible  that 
he  could  endure  his  misery  much  longer.  This  occasioned  us 
great  distress,  as  it  was  altogether  useless  to  think  of  aiding  him 
in  any  manner  while  the  sea  continued  washing  over  us  as  it  did. 
We  exhorted  him  to  bear  his  sufferings  with  fortitude,  and  prom- 
ised to  seize  the  first  opportunity  which  should  offer  itself  to 
relieve  him.  He  replied  that  it  would  soon  be  too  late ;  that  it 
would  be  all  over  with  him  before  we  could  help  him ;  and  then, 


84  NARRATIVE  OF 

after  moaning  for  some  minutes,  lay  silent,  when  we  com  luded 
that  he  had  perished. 

As  the  evening  drew  on,  the  sea  had  fallen  so  much  that 
scarcely  more  than  one  wave  broke  over  the  hulk  from  windward 
in  the  course  of  five  minutes,  and  the  wind  had  abated  a  great 
deal,  although  still  blowing  a  severe  gale.  I  had  not  heard  any 
of  my  companions  speak  for  hours,  and  now  called  to  Augustus. 
He  replied,  although  very  feebly,  so  that  1  could  not  distinguish 
what  he  said.  1  then  spoke  to  Peters  and  to  Parker,  neither  of 
whom  returned  any  answer. 

Shortly  after  this  period  I  fell  into  a  state  of  partial  insensi  • 
bility,  during  which  the  most  pleasing  images  floated  in  my  ima- 
gination ;  such  as  green  trees,  waving  meadows  of  ripe  grain, 
processions  of  dancing  girls,  troops  of  cavalry,  and  other  phan- 
tasies. I  now  remember  that,  in  all  which  passed  before  my 
mind's  eye,  motion  was  a  predominant  idea.  Thus,  I  never  fan- 
cied any  stationary  object,  such  as  a  house,  a  mountain,  or  any- 
thing of  that  kind ;  but  windmills,  ships,  large  birds,  ballooRs, 
people  on  horseback,  carriages  driving  furiously,  and  similar 
moving  objects,  presented  themselves  in  endless  succession. 
When  I  recovered  from  this  state,  the  sun  was,  as  near  as  I 
could  guess,  an  hour  high.  I  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  bring- 
ing to  recollection  the  various  circumstances  connected  with  my 
situation,  and  for  some  time  remained  firmly  convinced  that  I 
was  still  in  the  hold  of  the  brig,  near  the  box,  and  that  the  body 
of  Parker  was  that  of  Tiger. 

When  I  at  length  completely  came  to  my  senses,  I  found  that 
the  wind  blew  no  more  than  a  moderate  breeze,  and  that  the  sea 
was  comparatively  calm  ;  so  much  so  that  it  only  washed  over 
the  brig  amidships.  My  left  arm  had  broken  loose  from  its 
lashings,  and  was  much  cut  about  the  elbow ;  my  right  was  en- 
tirely benumbed,  and  the  hand  and  wrist  swollen  prodigiously 
by  the  pressure  of  the  rope,  which  had  worked  from  the  shoulder 
downward.  I  was  also  in  great  pain  from  another  rope  which 
went  about  my  waist,  and  had  been  drawn  to  an  insufferable  de- 
gree of  tightness.  Looking  round  upon  my  companions,  I  saw 
that  Peters  still  lived,  although  a  thick  line  was  pulled  so  forci- 
bly around  his  loin<  as  to  give  him  the  appearance  of  being  tut 


A    GORDON  HYM  85 

nearly  in  two  ,  as  I  stirred,  he  made  a  feeble  motion  to  me  with 
his  hand,  pointing  to  the  rope.  Augustus  gave  no  indication  of 
life  whatever,  and  was  bent  nearly  double  across  a  splinter  of  the 
windlass.  Parker  spoke  to  me  when  he  saw  me  moving,  and 
asked  me  if  I  had  not  sufficient  strength  to  release  him  from  his 
situation,  saying,  that  if  I  would  summon  up  what  spirits  I  could, 
and  contrive  to  untie  him,  we  might  yet  save  our  lives ;  but  that 
otherwise  we  must  all  perish.  I  told  him  to  take  courage,  and  I 
would  endeavor  to  free  him.  Feeling  in  my  pantaloon's  pocket, 
I  got  hold  of  my  penknife,  and,  after  several  ineffectual 
attempts,  at  length  succeeded  in  opening  it.  I  then,  Avith  my  left 
hand,  managed  to  free  my  right  from  its  fastenings,  and  after- 
ward cut  the  other  ropes  which  held  me.  Upon  attempting,  how 
ever,  to  move  from  my  position,  I  found  that  my  legs  failed  me 
altogether,  and  that  I  could  not  get  up ;  neither  could  I  move 
my  right  arm  in  any  direction.  Upon  mentioning  this  to  Parker, 
he  advised  me  to  lie  quiet  for  a  few  minutes,  holding  on  to  the 
windlass  with  my  left  hand,  so  as  to  allow  time  for  the  blood  to 
circulate.  Doing  this,  the  numbness  presently  began  to  die  away, 
so  that  I  could  move  first  one  of  my  legs,  and  then  the  other, 
and,  shortly  afterward,  I  regained  the  partial  use  of  my  right 
arm.  I  now  crawled  with  great  caution  towards  Parker,  without 
getting  on  my  legs,  and  soon  cut  loose  all  the  lashings  about  him, 
wben,  after  a  short  delay,  he  also  recovered  the  partial  use. of 
his  limbs.  We  now  lost  no  time  in  getting  loose  the  rope  from 
Peters.  It  had  cut  a  deep  gash  through  the  waistband  of  his 
woollen  pantaloons,  aud  through  two  shirts,  and  made  its  way 
into  his  groin,  from  which  the  blood  flowed  out  copiously  as  we 
removed  the  cordage.  No  sooner  had  we  removed  it,  however, 
than  he  spoke,  and  seemed  to  experience  instant  relief — being 
able  to  move  with  much  greater  ease  than  either  Parker 
or  myself — this  was  no  doubt  owing  to  the  discharge  ol 
blood. 

We  had  little  hope  that  Augustus  would  recover,  as  h€  evinced 
no  signs  of  life ;  but,  upon  getting  to  him,  we  discovered  that  he 
had  merely  swooned  from  loss  of  blood,  the  bandages  we  had 
placed  around  his  wounded  arm  having  been  torn  off  by  the 
water;  none  of  the  ropes  which  held  him  to  the  windlass  were 


86  NARRATIVE  OF 

drawn  sufficiently  tight  to  occasion  his  death.  Having  relieved 
him  from  the  fastenings,  and  got  him  clear  of  the  broken  wood 
about  the  windlass,  we  secured  him  in  a  dry  place  to  windward, 
with  his  head  somewhat  lower  than  his  body,  and  all  three  of 
us  busied  ourselves  in  chafing  his  limbs.  In  about  half  an  hour 
he  came  to  himself,  although  it  was  not  until  the  next  morning 
that  he  gave  signs  of  recognizing  any  of  us,  or  had  sufficient 
strength  to  speak.  By  the  time  we  had  thus  got  clear  of  our 
lashings  it  was  quite  dark,  and  it  began  to  cloud  up,  so  that  we 
were  again  in  the  greatest  agony  lest  it  should  come  on  to  blow 
hard,  in  which  event  nothing  could  have  saved  us  from  perishing, 
exhausted  as  we  were.  By  good  fortune  it  continued  very  mo- 
derate during  the  night,  the  sea  subsiding  every  minute,  which 
gave  us  great  hopes  of  ultimate  preservation.  A  gentle  breeze 
still  blew  from  the  N.  W.,  but  the  weather  was  not  at  all  cold. 
Augustus  was  lashed  carefully  to  windward  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  prevent  him  from  slipping  overboard  with  the  rolls  of  the 
vessel,  as  he  was  still  too  weak  to  hold  on  at  all.  For  ourselves 
there  was  no  such  necessity.  We  sat  close  together,  supporting 
each  other  with  the  aid  of  the  broken  ropes  about  the  windlass, 
and  devising  methods  of  escape  from  our  frightful  situation. 
We  derived  much  comfort  from  taking  off  our  clothes  and  wring 
ing  the  water  from  them.  When  we  put  them  on  after  this,  they 
felt  remarkably  warm  and  pleasant,  and  served  to  invigorate  us 
in  no  little  degree.  We  helped  Augustus  off  with  his,  and 
wrung  them  for  him,  when  he  experienced  the  same  comfort. 

Our  chief  sufferings  were  now  those  of  hunger  and  thirst,  and, 
when  we  looked  forward  to  the  means  of  relief  in  this  respect, 
our  hearts  sunk  within  us,  and  we  were  induced  to  regiet  that 
we  had  escaped  the  less  dreadful  perils  of  the  sea.  We  endea- 
vored, however,  to  console  ourselves  with  the  hope  of  being 
speedily  picked  up  by  some  vessel,  and  encouraged  each  other  to 
bear  with  fortitude  the  evils  that  might  happen. 

The  morning  of  the  fourteenth  at  length  dawned,  ana  the 
weather  still  continued  clear  and  pleasant,  with  a  steady  but  very 
Light  breeze  from  the  N.  W.  The  sea  was  now  quite  smooth, 
and  as,  from  some  cause  which  vfe  could  not  determine,  the  brig 
did  not  lie  so  much  along  as  she  had  done  before,  the  deck  waa 


A.  GORDON  PVM.  87 

comparatively  dry,  and  we  could  move  about  with  freedom  We 
had  now  been  better  than  three  entire  days  and  nights  without 
either  food  or  drink,  and  it  became  absolutely  necessary  that  we 
should  make  an  attempt  to  get  up  something  from  below.  As 
the  brig  was  completely  full  of  water,  we  went  to  this  work  des- 
pondingly,  and  with  but  little  expectation  of  being  able  to  obtain 
anything.  We  made  a  kind  of  drag  by  driving  some  nails  which 
we  broke  out  from  the  remains  of  the  companion-hatch  into  two 
pieces  of  wood.  Tying  these  across  each  other,  and  fastening 
them  to  the  end  of  a  rope,  we  threw  them  into  the  cabin,  and 
dragged  them  to  and  fro,  in  the  faint  hope  of  being  thus  able  to 
entangle  some  article  which  might  be  of  use  to  us  for  food,  or 
which  might  at  least  render  us  assistance  in  getting  it.  We 
spent  the  greater  part  of  the  morning  in  this  labor  without  effect, 
fishing  up  nothing  more  than  a  few  bedclothes,  which  were  read- 
ily caught  by  the  nails.  Indeed,  our  contrivance  was  so  very 
clumsy,  that  any  greater  success  was  hardly  to  be  anticipated. 

We  now  tried  the  forecastle,  but  equally  in  vain,  and  were 
upon  the  brink  of  despair,  when  Peters  proposed  that  we  should 
fasten  a  rope  to  his  body,  and  let  him  make  an  attempt  to  get  up 
something  by  diving  into  the  cabin.  This  proposition  we  hailed 
with  all  the  delight  which  reviving  hope  could  inspire.  He  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  strip  off  his  clothes  with  the  exception  of 
his  pantaloons;  and  a  strong  rope  was  then  carefully  fastened 
around  his  middle,  being  brought  up  over  his  shoulders  in  such  a 
manner  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  its  slipping.  The  under- 
taking was  one  of  great  difficulty  and  danger;  for,  as  we  could 
hardly  expect  to  find  much,  if  any  provision  in  the  cabin  itself,  it 
was  necessary  that  the  diver,  after  letting  himself  down,  should 
make  a  turn  to  the  right,  and  proceed  under  water  a  distance  of 
ten  or  twelve  feet,  in  a  narrow  passage,  to  the  storeroom,  and 
return,  without  drawing  breath. 

Everything  being  ready,  Peters  now  descended  into  the  cabin, 
going  down  the  companion-ladder  until  the  water  reached  his 
chin.  He  then  plunged  in,  head  first,  turning  to  the  right  as  he 
plunged,  and  endeavoring  to  make  his  way  to  the  storeroom.  In 
this  first  attempt,  however,  he  was  altogether  unsuccessful.  In 
less  than  half  a  minute  after  his  going  down  we  felt  the  rope 


88  NARRATIVE  OF 

jerked  violently  (the  signal  we  had  agreed  upon  when  he  desired 
to  be  <!rawn  up).  We  accordingly  drew  him  up  instantly,  but  so 
incautiously  as  to  bruise  him  badly  against  the  ladder.  He  had 
brought  nothing  with  him,  and  had  been  unable  to  penetrate  more 
than  a  very  little  way  into  the  passage,  owing  to  the  constant  exer- 
tions he  found  it  necessary  to  make  in  order  to  keep  himself  from 
floating  up  against  the  deck.  Upon  getting  out  he  was  very 
much  exhausted,  and  had  to  rest  full  fifteen  minutes  before  he 
could  again  venture  to  descend. 

The  second  attempt  met  with  even  worse  success ;  for  he  re- 
mained so  long  under  water  without  giving  the  signal,  that, 
becoming  alarmed  for  his  safety,  we  drew  him  out  without  it,  and 
found  that  he  was  almost  at  the  last  gasp,  having,  as  he  said,  re- 
peatedly jerked  at  the  rope  without  our  feeling  it.  This  was 
probably  owing  to  a  portion  of  it  having  become  entangled  in  the 
balustrade  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder.  This  balustrade  was,  indeedi 
BO  much  in  the  way,  that  we  determined  to  remove  it,  if  possible, 
before  proceeding  with  our  design.  As  we  had  no  means  of  get- 
ting it  away  except  by  main  force,  we  all  descended  into  the 
water  as  far  as  we  could  on  the  ladder,  and  giving  a  pull  against 
it  with  our  united  strength,  succeeded  in  breaking  it  down. 

The  third  attempt  was  equally  unsuccessful  with  the  two  first, 
and  it  now  became  evident  that  nothing  could  be  done  in  this 
manner  without  the  aid  of  some  weight  with  which  the  diver 
might  steady  himself,  and  keep  to  the  floor  of  the  cabin  while 
making  his  search.  For  a  long  time  we  looked  about  in  vain  for 
something  which  might  answer  this  purpose :  but  at  length,  to  our 
great  joy,  we  discovered  one  of  the  weather-forechains  so  loose  that 
we  had  not  the  least  difficulty  in  wrenching  it  off.  Having  fast- 
ened this  securely  to  one  of  his  ankels,  Peters  now  made  his 
fourth  descent  into  the  cabin,  and  this  time  succeeded  in  making 
his  way  to  the  door  of  the  steward's  room.  To  his  inexpressible 
grief,  however,  he  found  it  locked,  and  was  obliged  to  return 
without  effecting  an  entrance,  as,  with  the  greatest  exertion,  he 
could  remain  under  water  not  more,  at  the  utmost  extent,  than  a 
single  minute.  Our  affairs  now  looked  gloomy  indeed,  and  nei- 
ther Augustus  nor  myself  could  refrain,  from  bursting  into  tears, 
as  we  thought  of  the  host  of  difficulties  which  encompassed  us. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  y«j 

and  the  slight  probability  which  existed  of  our  finally  making  nn 
escape.  But  this  weakness  was  not  of  long  duration.  Throwing 
ourselves  on  our  knees  to  God,  we  implored  his  aid  in  the  many 
dangers  which  beset  us  ;  and  arose  with  renewed  hope  and  vigor 
to  think  what  could  yet  be  done  by  mortal  means  towards  ac- 
complishing our  deliverance. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SHORTLY  afterwai«d  an  incident  occurred  which  I  am  induced 
to  look  upon  as  more  intensely  productive  of  emotion,  as  far  more 
replete  with  the  extremes  first  of  delight  and  then  of  horror,  thai) 
even  any  of  the  thousand  chances  which  afterward  befell  me  iii 
nine  long  years,  crowded  with  events  of  the  most  startling,  and, 
in  many  cases,  of  the  most  unconceived  and  unconceivable  char- 
acter. We  were  lying  on  the  deck  near  the  companion-way,  and 
debating  the  possibility  of  yet  making  our  way  into  the  store- 
room, when,,  looking  towards  Augustus,  who  lay  fronting  myself 
I  perceived  that  he  had  become  all  at  once  deadly  pale,  and  that 
his  lips  were  quivering  in  the  most  singular  and  unaccountable 
manner.  Greatly  alarmed,  I  spoke  to  him,  but  he  made  me  no 
reply,  and  I  was  beginning  to  think  that  he  was  suddenly  taken 
ill,  when  I  took  notice  of  his  eyes,  which  were  glaring  appa- 
rently at  some  object  behind  me.  I  turned  my  head,  and  shall 
never  forget  the  ecstatic  joy  which  thrilled  through  every  particle 
of  my  frame,  when  I  perceived  a  large  brig  bearing  down  upon 
us,  and  not  more  than  a  couple  of  miles  off.  I  sprung  to  my  feet 
as  if  a  musket  bullet  had  suddenly  struck  me  to  the  heart ;  and, 
stretching  out  my  arms  in  the  direction  of  the  vessel,  stood  in  this 
manner,  motionless,  and  unable  to  articulate  a  syllable.  Peters  and 
Parker  were  equally  affected,  although  in  different  ways.  The 
former  danced  about  the  deck  like  a  madman,  uttering  the  most 
extravagant  rhodornontades,  intermingled  with  howls  and  impre- 
cations, while  the  latter  burst  into  tears,  and  continued  for  many 
minutes  weeping  like  a  child. 


90  NARRATIVE    OF 

The  vessel  in  sight  was  a  large  hermaphrodite  brig,  of  a  DuleTi 
build,  and  painted  black,  with  a  tawdry  gilt  figurehead.  She 
had  evidently  seen  a  good  deal  of  rough  weather,  and,  we  sup- 
posed, had  suffered  much  in  the  gale  which  had  proved  so  disas- 
trous to  ourselves  ;  for  her  foretopmast  was  gone,  and  some  of 
her  starboard  bulwarks.  When  we  first  saw  her,  she  was,  as  I 
have  already  said,  about  two  miles  off  and  to  windward,  bearing 
down  upon  us.  The  breeze  was  very  gentle,  and  what  astonished 
us  chiefly  was,  that  she  had  no  other  sails  set  than  her  foresail 
and  mainsail,  with  a  flying  jib — of  course  she  came  down  but 
slowly,  and  our  impatience  amounted  nearly  to  phrensy.  The 
awkward  manner  in  which  she  steered,  too,  was  remarked  by  all 
of  us,  even  excited  as  we  were.  She  yawed  about  so  conside- 
rably, that  once  or  twice  we  thought  it  impossible  she  could  see 
us,  or  imagined  that,  having  seen  us,  and  discovered  no  person 
on  board,  she  was  about  to  tack  and  make  off  in  another  direc- 
tion. Upon  each  of  these  occasions  we  screamed  and  shouted 
at  the  top  of  our  voices,  when  the  stranger  would  appear  to 
change  for  a  moment  her  intention,  and  again  hold  on  towards 
us — this  singular  conduct  being  repeated  two  or  three  times,  so 
that  at  last  we  could  think  of  no  other  manner  of  accounting 
for  it  than  by  supposing  the  helmsman  to  be  in  liquor. 

No  person  was  seen  upon  her  decks  until  she  arrived  within 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  us.  We  then  saw  three  seamen, 
whom  by  their  dress  we  took  to  be  Hollanders.  Two  of  these 
were  lying  on  some  old  sails  near  the  forecastle,  and  the  third, 
who  appeared  to  be  looking  at  us  with  great  curiosity,  was  lean- 
ing over  the  starboard  bow  near  the  bowsprit.  This  last  was  a 
stout  and  tall  man,  with  a  very  dark  skin.  He  seemed  by  his 
manner  to  be  encouraging  us  to  have  patience,  nodding  to  us  in 
a  cheerful  although  rather  odd  way,  and  smiling  constantly,  so 
as  to  display  a  set  of  the  most  brilliantly  white  teeth.  As  his 
vessel  drew  nearer,  we  saw  a  red  flannel  cap  which  he  had  on 
fall  from  his  head  into  the  water ;  but  of  this  he  took  little  or  n  i 
notice,  continuing  his  odd  smiles  and  gesticulations.  I  relate 
these  things  and  circumstances  minutely,  and  I  relate  them,  il 
must  be  understood,  precisely  as  they  appeared  to  us. 

The  brig  came  on  slowly,  and  now  more  steadily  than  beforei 


A.  GORDON  PYM  91 

•ind-  -I  cannot  speak  calmly  of  this  event — our  hearts  leaped  up 
wildly  within  us,  and  we  poured  out  our  whole  souls  in  shouts 
and  thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  complete,  unexpected,  and  glo- 
rious deliverance  that  was  so  palpably  at  hand.  Of  a  sudden, 
and  all  at  once,  there  came  wafted  over  the  ocean  from  the  strange 
vessel  (which  was  now  close  upon  us)  a  smell,  a  stench,  such  as 
the  whole  world  has  no  name  for — no  conception  of — hellish — 
utterly  suffocating — insufferable,  inconceivable.  I  gasped  for 
breath,  and  turning  to  my  companions,  perceived  that  they  were 
paler  than  ma'rble.  But  we  had  now  no  time  left  for  question 
or  surmise — the  brig  was  within  fifty  feet  of  us.  and  it  seemed  to  be 
her  intention  to  run  under  our  counter,  that  we  might  beard  her 
without  her  putting  out  a  boat.  We  rushed  aft,  when,  suddenly,  a 
wide  yaw  threw  her  off  full  five  or  six  points  from  the  course  she 
had  been  running,  and,  as  she  passed  under  our  stern  at  the  distance 
of  about  twenty  feet,  we  had  a  full  view  of  her  decks.  Shall  I 
ever  forget  the  triple  horror  of  that  spectacle  ?  Twenty-five  or 
thirty  human  bodies,  among  whom  were  several  females,  lay 
scattered  about  between  the  counter  and  the  galley  in  the  last 
and  most  loathsome  state  of  putrefaction.  We  plainly  saw  that 
not  a  soul  lived  in  that  fated  vessel  !  Yet  we  could  not  help 
s-houting  to  the  dead  for  help  !  Yes,  long  and  loudly  did  we  beg, 
in  the  agony  of  the  moment,  that  those  silent  and  disgusting 
images  would  stay  for  us,  would  not  abandon  us  to  become  like 
them,  would  receive  us  among  their  goodly  company  !  We  were 
raving  with  horror  and  despair — thoroughly  mad  through  the 
anguish  of  our  grievous  disappointment. 

As  our  first  loud  yell  of  terror  broke  forth,  it  was  replied  to 
by  something,  from  near  the  bowsprit  of  the  stranger,  so  closely 
resembling  the  scream  of  a  human  voice  that  the  nicest  ear 
might  have  been  startled  and  deceived.  At  this  instant  another 
sudden  yaw  brought  the  region  of  the  forecastle  for  a  moment 
into  view,  and  we  beheld  at  once  the  origin  of  the  sound.  We 
saw  the  tall  stout  figure  still  leaning  on  the  bulwark,  and  still 
nodding  his  head  to  and  fro,  but  his  face  was  now  turned  from  us 
so  that  we  could  not  behold  it.  His  arms  were  extended  over 
the  rail,  and  the  palms  of  his  hands  fell  outward.  His  knees 
were  lodged  upon  a  stout  rope,  tightly  stretched,  and  reaching 


92  NARRATIVE  OF 

from  the  heel  of  the  bowsprit  to  a  cathead.  Out  his  back,  from 
which  a  portion  of  the  shirt  had  been  torn,  leaving  it  bare,  there, 
sat  a  huge  seagull,  busily  gorging  itself  with  the  horrible  flesh,  its 
bill  and  talons  deep  buried,  and  its  white  plumage  spattered  all 
over  with  blood.  As  the  brig  moved  further  round  so  as  to  bring 
us  close  in  view,  the  bird,  with  much  apparent  difficulty,  drew 
out  its  crimsoned  head,  and,  after  eying  us  for  a  moment  as  if 
etupefied,  arose  lazily  from  the  body  upon  which  it  had  been  feast- 
ing, and,  flying  directly  above  our  deck,  hovered  there  a  while 
with  a  portion  of  clotted  and  liver-like  substance  in  its  beak. 
The  horrid  morsel  dropped  at  length  with  a  sullen  splash  imme- 
diately at  the  feet  of  Parker.  May  God  forgive  me,  but  now, 
for  the  first  time,  ihere  flashed  through  my  mind  a  thought,  a 
thought  which  I  will  not  mention,  and  I  felt  myself  making  a 
step  towards  the  ensanguined  spot.  I  looked  upward,  and  the 
eyes  of  Augustus  met  my  own  with  a  degree  of  intense  and 
eager  meaning  which  immediately  brought  me  to  my  senses.  I 
sprang  forward  quickly,  and,  with  a  deep  shudder,  threw  the, 
frightful  thing  into  the  sea. 

The  body  from  which  it  had  been  taken,  resting  as  it  did 
upon  the  rope,  had  been  easily  swayed  to  and  fro  by  the 
exertions  of  the  carnivorous  bird,  and  it  was  this  motion  which 
had  at  first  impressed  us  with  the  belief  of  its  being  alive. 
As  the  gull  relieved  it  of  its  weight,  it  swung  i-ound  and  fell 
partially  over,  so  that  the  face  was  fully  discovered.  Never, 
surely,  was  any  object  so  terribly  full  of  awe !  The  eyes  were 
gone,  and  the  whole  flesh  around  the  mouth,  leaving  the  teetb 
utterly  naked.  This,  then,  was  the  smile  which  had  cheered  us 
on  to  hope  !  this  the — but  I  forbear.  The  brig,  as  I  have  already 
told,  passed  under  our  stern,  and  made  its  way  slowly  but  stea- 
dily to  leeward.  With  her  and  with  her  terrible  crew  went  all 
our  gay  visions  of  deliverance  and  joy.  Deliberately  as  she  went 
by,  we  might  possibly  have  found  means  of  boarding  her,  had 
not  our  sudden  disappointment,  and  the  appalling  nature  of  the 
discovery  which  accompanied  it,  laid  entirely  prostrate  every 
active  faculty  of  mind  and  body.  We  had  seen  and  felt,  but  we 
<;ould  neither  think  nor  act,  until,  alas,  too  late.  How  much  our 
intellects  hud  been  weakened  by  this  incident  may  be  estimated 


A.  GORDON  P    M. 


'J3 


by  the  tact,  that  when  the  vessel  had  proceeded  sc  far  that  we 
could  perceive  no  more  than  the  half  of  her  hull,  the  proposi- 
tion was  seriously  entertained  of  attempting  to  overtake  her  by 
swimming ! 

I  have,  since  this  period,  vainly  endeavored  to  obtain  some 
clew  to  the  hideous  uncertainty  which  enveloped  the  fate  of  the 
stranger.  Her  build  and  general  appearance,  as  I  have  before 
stated,  led  us  to  the  belief  that  she  was  a  Dutch  trader,  and  the 
dresses  of  the  crew  also  sustained  this  opinion.  We  might  have 
easily  seen  the  name  upon  her  stern,  and,  indeed,  taken  other 
observations,  which  would  have  guided  us  in*  making  out  her 
character  ;  but  the  intense  excitement  of  the  moment  blinded 
us  to  everything  of  that  nature.  From  the  saffron-like  hue  of 
such  of  the  corpses  as  were  not  entirely  decayed,  we  concluded 
that  the  whole  of  her  company  had  perished  by  the  yellow  fever, 
or  some  other  virulent  disease  of  the  same  fearful  kind.  If  such 
were  the  ease  (and  I  know  not  what  e'se  to  imagine),  death,  to 
judge  from  the  positions  of  the  bodies,  must  have  come  upon 
them  in  a  manner  awfully  sudden  and  overwhelming,  in  a  way 
totally  distinct  from  that  which  generally  characterizes  even  thn 
most  deadly  pestilences  with  which  mankind  are  acquainted. 
Jt  is  possible,  indeed,  that  poison,  accidentally  introduced  into 
some  of  their  sea-stores,  may  have  brought  about  the  disaster  ; 
or  that  the  eating  some  unknown  venomous  species  of  fish,  or 
other  marine  animal,  or  oceanic  bird,  might  have  induced  it — but 
it  is  utterly  useless  to  form  conjectures  where  all  is  involved,  and 
will,  no  doubt,  remain  for  ever  involved,  in  the  most  appalling 
and  unfathomable  mystery. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

E  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  a  condition  of  stupid 
lethargy,  gazing  after  the  retreating  vessel  until  the  darkness, 
hiding  her  from  our  sight,  recalled  us  in  some  measure  to  our 
senses.  The  pangs  of  hunger  and  thirst  then  returned,  absorbing 
all  other  cares  and  considerations.  Nothing,  however,  could  be 
done  until  the  morning,  and,  sftwring  ourselves  as  well  as  possi' 


91  NARRATIVE  OF 

ble,  we  endeavored  to  snatch  a  little  repose.  In  this  I  succeeded 
beyond  my  expectations,  sleeping  until  my  companions,  who  had 
not  been  so  fortunate,  aroused  me  at  daybreak  to  renew  our 
attempts  at  getting  up  provision  from  the  hull. 

It  was  now  a  dead  calm,  with  the  sea  as  smooth  as  I  have  »ver 
known  it — the  weather  warm  and  pleasant.  The  brig  was  out 
of  sight.  We  commenced  our  operations  by  wrenching  off,  with 
some  trouble,  another  of  the  forechains  ;  and  having  fastened 
both  to  Peters's  feet,  he  again  made  an  endeavor  to  reach  the 
door  of  the  store-room,  thinking  it  possible  that  he  might  be  able 
to  force  it  open,  provided  he  could  get  at  it  in  sufficient  time ; 
and  this  he  hoped  to  do,  as  the  hulk  lay  much  more  steadily  than 
before. 

He  succeeded  very  quickly  in  reaching  the  door,  when,  loosen- 
ing one  of  the  chains  from  his  ankle,  he  made  every  exertion  to 
force  a  passage  with  it,  but  in  vain,  the  framework  of  the  room 
Doing  far  stronger  than  was  anticipated.  He  was  quite  exhaust- 
ed with  his  long  stay  under  water,  and  it  became  absolutely 
necessary  that  some  other  one  of  us  should  take  his  place.  For 
this  service  Parker  immediately  volunteered ;  but,  after  making 
three  ineffectual  efforts,  found  that  he  could  never  even  succeed 
in  getting  near  the  door.  The  condition  of  Augustus's  wounded 
arm  rendered  it  useless  for  him  to  attempt  going  down,  as  he 
would  be  unable  to  force  the  room  open  should  he  reach  it,  and 
it  accordingly  now  devolved  upon  me  to  exert  myself  for  our 
common  deliverance. 

Peters  had  left  one  of  the  chains  in  the  passage,  and  I  found, 
upon  plunging  in,  that  I  had  not  sufficient  balance  to  keep  me 
firmly  clown.  I  determined,  therefore,  to  attempt  no  more,  in  my 
first  effort,  than  merely  to  recover  the  other  chain.  In  groping 
along  the  floor  of  the  passage  for  this,  I  felt  a  hard  substance, 
which  I  immediately  grasped,  not  having  time  to  ascertain  what 
it  was,  but  returning  and  ascending  instantly  to  the  surface.  The 
prize  proved  to  be  a  bottle,  and  our  joy  may  be  conceived  when 
I  say  that  it  was  found  to  be  full  of  Port  wine.  Giving  thanks 
to  God  for  this  timely  and  cheering  assistance,  we  immediately 
drew  the  cork  with  my  penknife,  and,  each  taking  a  moderate 
«up,  felt  the  most  indescribable  comfort  from  the  warmth,  strength. 


A    GORDON  PYM.  95 

Rnd  spirits  with  which  it  inspired  us.  We  then  carefully  re- 
corked  the  bottle,  and,  by  means  of  a  handkerchief,  swung  it  in 
such  a  manner  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  its  getting 
broken. 

Having  rested  a  while  after  this  fortunate  discovery,  I  again 
descended,  and  now  recovered  the  chain,  with  which  I  instantly 
came  up.  I  then  fastened  it  on  and  went  down  for  the  third 
time,  when  I  became  fully  satisfied  that  no  exertions  whatever 
in  that  situation,  would  enable  me  to  force  open  the  door  of  the 
store-room.  I  therefore  returned  in  despair. 

There  seemed  now  to  be  no  longer  any  room  for  hope,  and  1 
could  perceive  in  the  countenances  of  my  companions  that  they 
had  made  up  their  minds  to  perish.  The  wine  had  evidently 
produced  in  them  a  species  of  delirium,  which,  perhaps,  I  had 
been  prevented  from  feeling  by  the  immersion  I  had  undergone 
since  drinking  it.  They  talked  incoherently,  and  about  matters 
unconnected  with  our  condition,  Peters  repeatedly  asking  me 
questions  about  Nantucket.  Augustus,  too,  I  remember,  ap- 
proached me  with  a  serious  air,  and  requested  me  to  lend  him  a 
pocket-comb,  as  his  hair  was  full  of  fish-scales,  and  he  wished  to 
get  them  out  before  going  on  shore.  Parker  appeared  somewhat 
less  affected,  and  urged  me  to  dive  at  random  into  the  cabin,  and 
bring  up  any  article  which  might  come  to  hand.  To  this  I  con- 
sented, and,  in  the  first  attempt,  after  staying  under  a  full  minute, 
brought  up  a  small  leather  trunk  belonging  to  Captain  Barnard. 
This  was  immediately  opened  in  the  faint  hope  that  it  might  con- 
tain something  to  eat  or  drink.  We  found  nothing,  however, 
except  a  box  of  razors  and  two  linen  shirts.  I  now  went  down 
again,  and  returned  without  any  success.  As  my  head  came 
above  water  I  heard  a  crash  on  deck,  and,  upon  getting  up,  saw 
that  my  companions  had  ungratefully  taken  advantage  of  my 
absence  to  drink  the  remainder  of  the  wine,  having  let  the  bottle 
fall  in  the  endeavor  to  replace  it  before  I  saw  them.  I  re- 
monstrated with  them  on  the  heartlessness  of  their  conduct,  when 
Augustus  burst  into  tears.  The  other  two  endeavored  to  laygh 
the  matter  off  as  a  joke,  but  I  hope  never  again  to  behold  laugh- 
ter of  such  a  species  :  the  distortion  of  countenance  was  absolutely 
frightful.  Indeed,  it  was  apparent  that  the  stimulus,  in  the 


%  NARRATIVE  OF 

empty  state  of  their  stomachs,  had  taken  instant  and  violent  ef- 
fect, and  that  they  were  all  exceedingly  intoxicated.  With  great 
difficulty  I  prevailed  upon  them  to  lie  down,  when  they  fell  very 
soon  into  a  heavy  slumber,  accompanied  with  load  stertorous 
breathing. 

I  now  found  myself,  as  it  were,  alone  in  the  brig,  and  my  re- 
flections, to  be  sure,  were  of  the  most  fearful  and  gloomy  nature. 
No  prospect  offered  itself  to  my  view  but  a  lingering  death  by 
famine,  or,  at  the  best,  by  being  overwhelmed  in  the  first  gale 
which  should  spring  up,  for  in  our  present  exhausted  condition 
we  could  have  no  hope  of  living  through  another. 

The  gnawing  hunger  which  I  now  experienced  was  nearly 
insupportable,  and  I  felt  myself  capable  of  going  to  any  lengths 
in  order  to  appease  it.  With  my  knife  I  cut  off  a  small  portion 
of  the  leather  trunk,  and  endeavored  to  eat  it,  but  found  it  utterly 
impossible  to  swallow  a  single  morsel,  although  I  fancied  that 
some  little  alleviation  of  my  suffering  was  obtained  by  chewing 
small  pieces  of  it  and  spitting  them  out.  Towards  night  my 
companions  awoke,  one  by  one,  each  in  an  indescribable  state  of 
weakness  and  horror,  brought  on  by  the  wine,  whose  fumes  had 
now  evaporated.  They  shook  as  if  with  a  violent  ague,  and 
uttered  the  most  lamentable  cries  for  water.  Their  condition 
affected  me  in  the  most  lively  degree,  at  the  same  time  causing 
me  to  rejoice  in  the  fortunate  train  of  circumstances  which  had 
prevented  me  from  indulging  in  the  wine,  and  consequently 
fi'om  sharing  their  melancholy  and  most  distressing  sensations. 
Their  conduct,  however,  gave  me  great  uneasiness  and  alarm ; 
for  it  was  evident  that,  unless  some  favorable  change  took  place, 
they  could  afford  me  no  assistance  in  providing  for  our  common 
safety.  I  had  not  yet  abandoned  all  idea  of  being  able  to  get  up 
something  from  below ;  but  the  attempt  could  not  possibly  be  re- 
sumed until  some  one  of  them  was  sufficiently  master  of  himself 
to  aid  me  by  holding  the  end  of  the  rope  while  I  went  down. 
Parker  appeared  to  be  somewhat  more  in  possession  of  his  senses 
than  the  others,  and  I  endeavored,  by  every  means  in  my  power, 
to  arouse  him.  Thinking  that  a  plunge  in  the  sea-water  might 
have  a  beneficial  effect,  I  contrived  to  fasten  the  end  of  a  rope 
around  his  body,  and  then,  hading  him  to  the  companion-way 


A.  GORDON  PY-M.  97 

(he  remaining  quite  passive  all  the  while),  pushed  him  in,  and 
immediately  drew  him  out.  I  had  good  reason  to  congratulate 
myself  upon  having  made  this  experiment ;  for  he  appeared  much 
revived  and  invigorated,  and,  upon  getting  out,  asked  me,  in  a 
rational'manner,  why  I  had  so  served  him.  Having  explained 
my  object,  he  expressed  himself  indebted  to  me,  and  said  that  he 
felt  greatly  better  from  the  immersion,  afterward  conversing 
sensibly  upon  our  situation.  We  then  resolved  to  treat  Augustus 
and  Peters  in  the  same  way,  which  we  immediately  did,  when 
they  both  experienced  much  benefit  from  the  shock.  This  idea 
of  sudden  immersion  had  been  suggested  to  me  by  reading  in 
some  medical  work  the  good  effect  of  the  shower-bath  in  a  case 
where  the  patient  was  suffering  from  mania  a  potu. 

Finding  that  I  could  now  trust  my  companions  to  hold  the  end 
of  the  rope,  I  again  made  three  or  four  plunges  into  the  cabin, 
although  it  was  now  quite  dark,  and  a  gentle  but  long  swell  from 
the  northward  rendered  the  hulk  somewhat  unsteady.  In  the 
course  of  these  a  tempts  I  succeeded  in  bringing  up  two  case* 
knives,  a  three-gallon  jug,  empty,  and  a  blanket,  but  nothing 
which  could  serve  us  for  food.  I  continued  my  efforts,  after 
getting  these  articles,  until  I  was  completely  exhausted,  but 
brought  up  nothing  else.  During  the  night  Parker  and  Peters 

O  JT  O  O          -  O 

occupied  themselves  by  turns  in  the  same  manner;  but  nothing 
coming  to  hand,  we  now  gave  up  this  attempt  in  despair,  con- 
cluding that  we  were  exhausting  ourselves  in  vain. 

We  passed  the  remainder  of  this  night  in  a  state  of  the  most 
intense  mental  and  bodily  anguish  that  can  possibly  be  imagined. 
The  morning  of  the  sixteenth  at  length  dawned,  and  we  looked 
eagerly  around  the  horizon  for  relief,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
si -a  was  still  smooth,  with  only  a  long  swell  from  the  northward, 
as  on  yesterday.  This  was  the  sixth  day  since  we  had  tasted 
either  food  or  drink,  with  the  exception  of  the  bottle  of  Port 
wine,  and  it  was  clear  that  we  could  hold  out  but  a  very  little 
while  longer  unless  something  could  be  obtained.  I  never  saw 
before,  nor  wish  to  see  again,  human  beings  so  utterly  emaciated 
as  Peters  and  Augustus.  Had  I  met  them  on  shore  in  their 
p.'-esent  condition  I  should  not  have  had  the  slightest  suspicion 
that  I  had  ever  beheld  them  Their  countenances  were  totally 


98  NARRATIVE  OF 

changed  in  character,  so  that  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  believe 
them  really  the  same  individuals  with  whom  I  had  been  in  com- 
pany but  a  few  days  before.  Parker,  although  sadly  reduced, 
and  so  feeble  that  he  could  not  raise  his  head  from  his  bosom, 
was  not  so  far  gone  as  the  other  two.  He  suffered  with  great 
patience,  making  no  complaint,  and  endeavoring  to  inspire  us 
tvith  hope  in  every  manner  he  could  devise.  For  myself,  al- 
though at  the  commencement  of  the  voyage  I  had  been  in  bad 
health,  and  was  at  all  times  of  a  delicate  constitution,  I  suffered 
less  than  any  of  us,  being  much  less  reduced  in  frame,  and 
retaining  my  powers  of  mind  in  a  surprising  degree,  while  the 
rest  were  completely  prostrated  in  intellect,  and  seemed  to  be 
brought  to  a  species  of  second  childhood,  generally  simpering 
in  their  expressions,  with  idiotic  smiles,  and  uttering  the  most 
absurd  platitudes.  At  intervals,  however,  they  would  appear  to 
revive  suddenly,  as  if  inspired  all  at  once  with  a  consciousness1 
of  their  condition,  when  they  would  spring  upon  their  feet  in  a 
momentary  flash  of  vigor,  and  speak,  for  a  short  period,  of  their 
prospects,  in  a  manner  altogether  rational,  although  full  of  the 
most  intense  despair.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  my  compan 
ions  may  have  entertained  the  same  opinion  of  their  own  condi- 
tion as  I  did  of  mine,  and  that  I  may  have  unwittingly  been  guilty 
of  the  same  extravagances  and  imbecilities  as  themselves — this 
is  a  matter  which  cannot  be  determined. 

About  noon  Parker  declared  that  he  saw  land  off  the  larboard 
'Uiurter,  and  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  I  could  restrain 
him  from  plunging  into  the  sea  with  the  view  of  swimming 
towards  it.  Peters  and  Augustus  took  little  notice  of  what  he 
-aid,  being  apparently  wrapped  up  in  moody  contemplation. 
Upon  looking  in  the  direction  pointed  out,  I  could  not  perceive 
the  faintest  appearance  of  the  shore — indeed,  I  was  too  well 
aware  that  we  were  far  from  any  land  to  indulge  in  a  hope  oi 
that  nature.  It  was  a  long  time,  nevertheless,  before  I  could 
convince  Parker  of  l.is  mistake.  He  then  burst  into  n  flood  of 
tears,  weeping  like  a  child,  with  loud  cries  and  sobs,  for  two  01 
three  hours,  when,  becoming  exhausted,  he  fell  asleep. 

Peters  and  Augustus  now  made  several  ineffectual  efforts  to 
swallow  portions  of  the  leathei  T  advised  them  to  chew  it  and 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  yg 

spit,  il  out  ;  bu!  they  were  too  excessively  debilitated  to  be  able 
to  follow  my  ad\iee.  I  continued  to  chew  pieces  of  it  at  inter- 
vals, and  found  some  relief  from  so  doing;  my  chief  distress  was 
tor  water,  and  1  was  only  prevented  from  taking  a  draught  from 
tne  sea  by  remembering  the  horrible  consequences  which  thus 
have  resulted  to  others  who  were  similarly  situated  with  ourselves. 

The  day  wore  on  in  this  manner,  when  I  suddenly  discovered  a 
sail  to  the  eastward,  and  on  our  larboard  bow.  She  appeared  lo 
be  a  large  ship,  and  was  coming  nearly  athwart  us,  being  pro- 
bably twelve  or  fifteen  miles  distant.  Tsone  of  my  companions 
had  as  yet  discovered  her,  and  I  forbore  to  tell  them  of  her  for 
the  present,  lest  we  might  again  be  disappointed  ef  relief.  At 
length,  upon  her  getting  nearer,  I  saw  distinctly  that  she  was 
heading  immediately  for  us,  with  her  light  sails  filled.  I  could 
now  contain  myself  no  longer,  and  pointed  her  out  to  my  fellow- 
sutlerers.  They  immediately  sprang  to  their  feet,  again  indul- 
ging in  the  most  extravagant  demonstrations  of  joy,  weeping, 
laughing  in  an  idiotic  manner,  jumping,  stamping  upon  the  deck, 
tearing  their  hair,  and  praying  and  cursing  by  turns.  I  was  so 
affected  by  their  conduct,  as  well  as  by  what  I  now  considered  a 
sure  prospect  of  deliverance,  that  I  could  not  refrain  from  joining 
in  with  their  madness,  and  gave  way  to  the  impulses  of  my 
gratitude  and  ecstasy  by  lying  and  rolling  on  the  deck,  clapping 
my  hands,  shouting,  and  other  similar  acts,  until  I  was  suddenly 
called  to  my  recollection,  and  once  more  to  the  extreme  of  human 
misery  and  despair,  by  perceiving  the  ship  all  at  once  with  her 
stern  fully  presented  towards  us,  and  steering  in  a  direction 
nearly  opposite  to  that  in  which  I  had  at  first  perceived  her. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  could  induce  my  poor  companions  to 
believe  that  this  sad  reverse  in  our  prospects  had  actually  taken 
place.  They  replied  to  all  my  assertions  with  a  stare  and  a  gest- 
ure implying  that  they  were  not  to  be  deceived  by  such  misre- 
presentations. The  conduct  of  Augustus  most  sensibly  affected 
me.  In  spite  of  all  I  could  say  or  do  to  the  contrary,  he  per- 
bisted  in  saying  that  the  ship  was  rapidly  nearing  us,  and  in 
making  preparations  to  go  on  board  of  her.  Some  sea-weed 
Heating  by  the  brig,  he  maintained  that  it  was  the  ship's  boat, 
and  endeavored  to  throw  himself  upon  it,  howling  and  shrieking 


100  NARRATIVE  OF 

in  the  most  heart-rending  manner,  when  I  forcibly  restrained  him 
from  thus  casting  himself  into  the  sea. 

Having  become  in  some  degree  pacified,  we  continued  to 
watch  the  ship  until  we  finally  lost  sight  of  her,  the  weather 
becoming  hazy,  with  a  light  breeze  springing  up.  As  soon  as 
she  was  entirely  gone,  Parker  turned  suddenly  towards  me  with 
an  expression  of  countenance  which  made  me  shudder.  There 
was  about  him  an  air  of  self-possession  which  I  had  not  noticed 
in  him  until  now,  and  before  he  opened  his  lips  my  heart  told  roe 
what  he  would  say.  He  proposed,  in  a  few  words,  that  one  of 
us  should  die  to  preserve  the  existence  of  the  others. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
i 

1  HAD,  for  sometime  past,  dwelt  upon  the  prospect  of  our  beii;g 
reduced  to  this  last  horrible  extremity,  and  had  secretly  made  up 
my  mind  to  suffer  death  in  any  shape  or  under  any  circumstan- 
ce*; rather  than  resort  to  such  a  course.  Nor  was  this  resolution 
in  any  degree  weakened  by  the  present  intensity  of  hunger  under 
which  I  labored.  The  proposition  had  not  been  heard  by  either 
Peters  or  Augustus.  I  therefore  took  Parker  aside  ;  and  men- 
tally praying  to  God  for  power  to  dissuade  him  from  the  horrible 
purpose  he  entertained,  I  expostulated  with  him  for  a  long  time, 
and  in  the  most  supplicating  manner,  begging  him  in  the  name 
of  everything  which  he  held  sacred,  and  urging  him  by  every 
species  of  argument  which  the  extremity  of  the  case  suggested, 
to  abandon  the  idea,  and  not  to  mention  it  to  either  of  the  other 
two. 

He  heard  all  I  said  without  attempting  to  controvert  any  of 
my  arguments,  and  I  had  begun  to  hope  that  he  would  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  do  as  I  desired.  But  when  I  had  ceased  speaking, 
he  said  that  he  knew  very  well  all  I  had  said  was  true,  and  thai 
to  resort  to  such  a  course  was  the  most  horrible  alternative  which 
could  enter  into  the  mind  of  man ;  but  that  he  had  now  held  out 
ufi  long  as  human  nature  could  be  sustained ;  that  it  was  unne- 
cessary for  all  to  perish,  when,  by  the  death  of  one,  it  was 


A.  GORDON  PVM.  101 

possible,  and  even  probable,  that  the  rest  might  be  finally  pre- 
served;  adding  that  I  might  save  myself  the  trouble  of  trying  to 
turn  him  from  his  purpose,  his  mind  having  been  thoroughly 
made  up  on  the  subject  even  before  the  appearance  of  the  ship, 
and  that  only  her  heaving  in  sight  had  prevented  him  from 
mentioning  his  intention  at  an  earlier  period. 

I  now  begged  him,  if  he  would  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  abandon 
his  design,  at  least  to  defer  it  for  another  day,  when  some  vessel 
might  come  to  our  relief;  again  reiterating  every  argument  1 
could  devise,  and  which  I  thought  likely  to  have  influence  with 
one  of  his  rough  nature.  He  said,  in  reply,  that  he  had  not 
spoken  until  the  very  last  possible  moment ;  that  he  could  exist 
no  longer  without  sustenance  of  some  kind  ;  and  that  therefore  in 
another  day  his  suggestion  would  be  too  late,  as  regarded  himself 
at  least. 

Finding  that  he  was  not  to  be  moved  by  anything  I  could  say 
in  a  mild  tone,  I  now  assumed  a  different  demearor,  and  told  him 
Jjiat  he  must  be  aware  I  had  suffered  less  than  any  of  us  from 
our  calamities ;  that  my  health  and  strength,  cons  ^quently,  were 
at  that  moment  far  better  than  his  own,  or  than  that  either  of 
Peters  or  Augustus;  in  short,  that  I  was  in  a  condition  to  have 
my  own  way  by  force  if  I  found  it  necessary ;  and  that,  if  he 
attempted  in  any  manner  to  acquaint  the  others  w'th  his  bloody 
and  cannibal  designs,  I  would  not  hesitate  to  throw  him  into  the 
sea.  Upon  this  he  immediately  seized  me  by  the  throat,  and 
drawing  a  knife,  made  several  ineffectual  efforts  to  stab  me  in 
the  stomach  ;  an  atrocity  which  his  excessive  debility  alone  pre- 
vented him  from  accomplishing.  In  the  mean  time,  being  roused 
to  a  high  pitch  of  anger,  I  forced  him  to  the  vessel's  side,  with 
the  full  intention  of  throwing  him  overboard.  He  was  savec* 
from  this  fate,  however,  by  the  interference  of  Peters,  who  now 
approached  and  separated  us,  asking  the  cause  of  the  d'sturbance. 
This  Parker  told  before  I  could  find  means  in  any  manner  to 
prevent  him. 

The  effect  of  his  words  was  even  more  terrible  than  what  I 
had  anticipated.  Both  Augustus  and  Peters,  who,  it  seem*,  had 
long  secretly  entertained  the  same  fearful  idea  which  Parker  had 
been  merely  the  first  to  broach  Coined  with  him  in  his  design 


102        .  NARRATIVE  OF 

and  insisted  upon  its  immediately  being  carried  into  effect.  1 
had  calculated  that  one  at  least  of  the  two  former  would  be  found 
still  possessed  of  sufficient  strength  of  mind  to  side  with  myself 
in  resisting  any  attempt  to  execute  so  dreadful  a  purpose  ;  and, 
with  the  aid  of  either  one  of  them,  I  had  no  fear  of  being  able  to 
prevent  its  accomplishment.  Being  disappointed  in  this  expec- 
tation, it  became  absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  attend  to  my 
own  safety,  as  a  further  resistance  on  my  part  might  possibly  be 
considered  by  men  in  their  frightful  condition  a  sufficient  excuse 
for  refusing  me  fair  play  in  the  tragedy  that  I  knew  would 
speedily  be  enacted. 

I  now  told  them  I  was  willing  to  submit  to  the  proposal, 
merely  requesting  a  delay  of  about  one  hour,  in  order  that  the 
fng  which  had  gathered  around  us  might  have  an  opportunity  of 
It  fting,  when  it  was  possible  that  the  ship  we  had  seen  might  be  again 
in  sight.  After  great  difficulty  I  obtained  from  them  a  promise 
to  wait  thus  long;  and,  as  I  had  anticipated  (a  breeze  rapidly 
corning  in),  the  fog  lifted  before  the  hour  had  expired,  when,  no 
vessel  appearing  in  sight,  we  prepared  to  draw  lots. 

It  is  with  extreme  reluctance  that  I  dwell  upon  the  appalling 
scene  which  ensued ;  a  scene  which,  with  its  minutest  details,  no 
after  events  have  been  able  to  efface  in  the  slightest  degree  from 
my  memory,  and  whose  stern  recollection  will  embitter  every 
luture  moment  of  my  existence.  Let  me  run  over  this  portion  of 
my  narrative  with  as  much  haste  as  the  nature  of  the  events  to 
be  spoken  of  will  permit.  The  only  method  we  could  devise  for 
the  terrific  lottery,  in  which  we  were  to  take  each  a  chance,  was 
that  of  drawing  straws.  Small  splinters  of  wood  were  made  to 
answer  our  purpose,  and  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  be  the  hold- 
er. I  retired  to  one  end  of  the  hulk,  while  my  poor  companions 
silently  took  up  their  station  in  the  other  with  their  backs  turned 
towards  me.  The  bitterest  anxiety  which  I  endured  at  any 
period  of  this  fearful  drama  was  while  I  occupied  myself  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  lots.  There  are  few  conditions  into  whi'ih 
man  can  possibly  fall  where  he  will  not  feel  a  deep  interest  in 
the  preservation  of  his  existence ;  an  interest  momentarily  in- 
creasing with  the  frailness  of  the  tenure  by  which  that  existence 
may  be  held.  But  now  that  the  silent,  definite,  and  stern  nature 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  103 

of  the  business  in  which  I  was  engaged  (so  different  from  Hie 
tumultuous  dangers  of  the  storm  or  the  gradually  approaching 
horrors  of  famine)  allowed  me  to  reflect  on  the  few  chances  I  had 
of  escaping  the  most  appalling  of  deaths — a  death  for  the  most 
appalling  of  purposes — every  particle  of  that  energy  which  had 
so  long  buoyed  me  up  departed  like  feathers  before  the  wind, 
leaving  me  a  helpless  prey  to  the  most  abject  and  pitiable  terror. 
I  could  not,  at  first,  even  summon  up  sufficient  strength  to  tear 
and  fit  together  the  small  splinters  of  wood,  my  fingers  absolutely 
refusing  their  office,  and  my  knees  knocking  violently  against 
each  other.  My  mind  ran  over  rapidly  a  thousand  absurd  pro- 
jects by  which  to  avoid  becoming  a  partner  in  the  awful  specu- 
lation. I  thought  of  falling  on  my  knees  to  my  companions,  and 
entreating  them  to  let  me  escape  this  necessity ;  of  suddenly 
rushing  upon  them,  and,  by  putting  one  of  them  to  death,  of 
rendering  the  decision  by  lot  useless — in  short,  of  everything  but 
of  going  through  with  the  matter  I  had  in  hand.  At  last,  after 
wasting  a  long  time  in  this  imbecile  conduct,  I  wao  recalled  to 
my  senses  by  the  voice  of  Parker,  who  urged  me  io  relieve  them 
at  once  from  the  terrible  anxiety  they  were  ensuring.  Even 
then  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  arrange  the  spi-iitfirs  upon  the 
spot,  but  thought  over  every  species  of  finesse  by  which  I  could  trick 
some  one  of  my  fellow-sufferers  to  draw  the  short  straw,  as  it  had 
been  agreed  that  whoever  drew  the  shortest  of  four  splinters  from 
my  hand  was  to  die  for  the  preservation  of  the  rest.  Before  any 
one  condemn  me  for  this  apparent  heartlessness,  let  him  be 
placed  in  a  situation  precisely  similar  to  my  own. 

At  length  delay  was  no  longer  possible,  and,  with  a  heart 
almo>t  bursting  from  my  bosom,  I  advanced  to  the  region  of  the 
forecastle,  where  my  companions  were  awaiting  me.  I  held  out 
my  hand  with  the  splinters,  and  Peters  immediately  drew.  He 
was  free — his.  at  least,  was  not  the  shortest;  and  there  was  now 
another  chance  against  my  escape.  I  summoned  up  all  my 
strength,  and  passed  the  lots  to  Augustus.  He  also  drew  imme- 
diately, and  he  also  was  free;  and  now,  whether  I  should  live  or 
Ik.-,  the  chances  were  no  more  than  precisely  even.  At  this  mo- 
ment all  the  fierceness  of  the  tiger  possessed  my  bosom,  and  I 
felt  toward?  my  poor  fellow-creature.  Parker,  the  most  intense, 


104  NARRATIVE  OF 

the  most  diabolical  hatred.  But  the  fueling  did  not  la^t ;  and,  at 
length,  with  a  convulsive  shudder  and  closed  eyes,  1  held  out  the 
two  remaining  splinters  towards  him.  It  was  full  five  minutes 
before  he  could  summon  resolution  to  draw,  during  which  period 
of  heart-rending  suspense  I  never  once  opened  my  eyes.  Pres- 
entlv  one  of  the  two  lots  was  quickly  drawn  from  my  hand.  The 
decision  was  then  over,  yet  I  knew  not  whether  it  was  for  me  or 
norainst  me.  No  one  spoke,  and  still  I  dared  not  satisfy  myself 
by  looking  at  the  splinter  I  held.  Peters  at  length  took  me  by 
the  hand,  and  I  forced  myself  to  look  up,  when  I  immediately 
saw  by  the  countenance  of  Parker  that  I  was  safe,  and  that  he  it 
was  who  had  been  doomed  to  suffer.  Gasping  for  breath,  I  fell 
senseless  to  the  deck. 

I  recovered  from  my  swoon  in  time  to  behold  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  tragedy  in  the  death  of  him  who  had  been  chiefly 
instrumental  in  bringing  it  about.  He  made  no  resistance  what- 
ever, and  was  stabbed  in  the  back  by  Peters,  when  he  fell 
instantly  dead.  I  must  not  dwell  upon  the  fearful  repast  which 
immediately  ensued.  Such  things  may  be  imagined,  but  words 
have  no  power  to  impress  the  mind  with  the  exquisite  horror  of 
their  reality.  Let  it  suffice  to  say  that,  having  in  some  measure 
appeased  the  raging  thirst  which  consumed  us  by  the  blood  of 
the  victim,  and  having  by  common  consent  taken  off  the  hands, 
feet  and  head,  throwing  them  together  with  the  entrails,  into  the 
sea,  we  devoured  the  rest  of  the  body,  piecemeal,  during  the  four 
ever  memorable  days  of  the  seventeenth,  eighteenth,  nineteenth, 
and  twentieth  of  the  month. 

On  the  nineteenth,  there  coming  on  a  smart  shower  which 
lasted  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  we  contrived  to  catch  soma 
water  by  means  of  a  sheet  which  had  been  fished  up  from  the 
cabin  by  our  drag  just  after  the  gale.  The  quantity  we  took  in 
all  did  not  amount  to  more  than  half  a  gallon;  but  even  this 
i-eanty  allowance  supplied  us  with  comparative  strength  and 
hope. 

On  the  twenty-first  we  were  again  reduced  to  the  last  neces- 
sity. The  weather  still  remained  warm  and  pleasant,  with 
occasional  fogs  and  light  breezes,  most  usually  from  N.  to  W. 

On    the    twenty-second,    as    we    were   sitting   close    huddled 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  105 

together,  gloomily  revolving  over  our  lamentabk  condition,  therti 
flashed  through  my  mind  all  at  once  an  idea  which  inspired  m« 
with  a  bright  gleam  of  hope.  I  remembered  that,  when  the 
foremast  had  been  cut  away,  Peters,  being  in  the  windward 
chains,  passed  one  of  the  axes  into  my  hand,  requesting  me  to 
put  it,  if  possible,  in  a  place  of  security,  and  that  a  few  minutes 
before  the  last  heavy  sea  struck  the  brig  and  filled  her  I  had 
taken  this  axe  into  the  forecastle  and  laid  it  in  one  of  the  lar- 
board berths.  I  now  thought  it  possible  that,  by  getting  at  this 
axe,  we  might  cut  through  the  deck  over  the  store-room,  and  thus 
readily  supply  ourselves  with  provisions. 

When  I  communicated  this  project  to  my  companions,  they 
uttered  a  feeble  shout  of  joy,  and  we  all  proceeded  forthwith  to 
the  forecastle.  The  difficulty  of  descending  here  was  greater 
than  that  of  going  down  in  the  cabin,  the  opening  being  much 
smaller,  for  it  will  be  remembered  that  the  whole  framework 
about  the  cabin  companion-hatch  had  been  carried  away,  where- 
as the  forecastle-way,  being  a  simple  hatch  of  only  about  three 
feet  square,  had  remained  uninjured.  I  did  not  hesitate,  how- 
ever, to  attempt  the  descent ;  and,  a  rope  being  fastened  round  my 
body  as  before,  I  plunged  boldly  in,  feet  foremost,  made  my  way 
quickly  to  the  berth,  and,  at  the  very  first  attempt,  brought  up 
the  axe.  It  was  hailed  with  the  most  ecstatic  joy  and  triumph, 
and  the  ease  with  which  it  had  been  obtained  was  regarded  as 
an  omen  of  our  ultimate  preservation. 

We  now  commenced  cutting  at  the  deck  with  all  the  energy 
of  rekindled  hope,  Peters  and  myself  taking  the  axe  by  turn?, 
Augustus's  wounded  arm  not  permitting  him  to  aid  us  in  any 
degree.  As  we  were  still  so  feeble  as  to  be  scarce!)  able  to 
stand  unsupported,  and  could  consequently  work  but  a  minute  or 
two  without  resting,  it  soon  became  evident  that  many  long  hours 
would  be  requisite  to  accomplish  our  task — that  is,  to  cut  an 
opening  sufficiently  large  to  admit  of  a  free  access  to  the  store- 
room. This  consideration,  however,  did  not  discourage  us ;  and, 
working  all  night  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  we  succeeded  in 
effecting  our  purpose  by  daybreak  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty- 
third. 

Peters  now  volunteered  to  gra  down  ;  and,  having  made  all 


106  NARRATIVE  OF 

arrangements  as  before,  he  descended,  and  soon  returned,  bring- 
ing up  with  him  a  small  jar,  which,  to  our  great  joy,  proved  to 
be  full  of  olives.  Having  shared  these  among  us,  and  devoured 
them  with  the  greatest  avidity,  we  proceeded  to  let  him  down 
again.  This  time  he  succeeded  beyond  our  utmost  expectations, 
returning  instantly  with  a  large  ham  and  a  bottle  of  Madeira 
wine.  Of  the  latter  we  each  took  a  moderate  sup,  having 
learned  by  experience  the  pernicious  consequences  of  indulging 
too  freely.  The  ham,  except  about  two  pounds  near  the  bone, 
was  not  in  a  condition  to  be  eaten,  having  been  entirely  spoiled 
by  the  salt  water.  The  sound  part  was  divided  among  us. 
Peters  and  Augustus,  not  being  able  to  restrain  their  appetite, 
swallowed  theirs  upon  the  instant ;  but  I  was  more  cautious,  and 
ate  but  a  small  portion  of  mine,  dreading  the  thirst  which  I  knew 
would  ensue.  We  now  rested  a  while  from  our  labors,  which 
had  been  intolerably  severe. 

By  noon,  feeling  somewhat  strengthened-  and  refreshed,  we 
again  renewed  our  attempt  at  getting  up  provision,  Peters  and 
myself  going  down  alternately,  and  always  with  more  or  less 
success,  until  sundown.  During  this  interval  we  had  the  good 
fortune  to  bring  up,  altogether,  four  more  small  jar«  of  olives, 
another  ham,  a  carboy  containing  nearly  three  gallons  of  excel- 
lent Cape  Madeira  wine,  and,  what  gave  us  still  more  deligat, 
a  small  tortoise  of  the  Gallipago  breed,  several  of  which  had 
been  taken  on  board  by  Captain  Barnard,  as  the  Grampus  was 
leaving  port,  from  the  schooner  Mary  Pitts,  just  returned  from  a 
sealing  voyage  in  the  Pacific. 

In  a  subsequent  portion  of  this  narrative  I  shall  have  fre- 
quent occasion  to  mention  this  species  of  tortoise.  It  is  found 
principally,  as  most  of  my  readers  may  know,  in  the  group  of 
islands  called  the  Gallipagos  which,  indeed,  derive  their  name 
from  the  animal — the  Spanish  word  Gallipago  meaning  a  fresh- 
water terapin.  From  the  peculiarity  of  their  shape  and  action 
they  have  been  sometimes  called  the  elephant  tortoise.  They 
are  frequently  found  of  an  enormous  size.  I  have  myself  seen 
several  which  would  weigh  from  twelve  to  fifteen  hundred  pounds, 
although  I  do  not  remember  that  any  navigator  speaks  of  having 
them  weighing  moru  than  eight  hundred.  Their  appearance 


A.  GORUUN  PVAI.  1J7 

is  singular,  and  even  disgusting,  Their  steps  are  very  slow, 
ui<-a-ured,  and  heavy,  their  bodies  being  carried  about  a  foot  from 
the  ground.  Their  neck  is  long,  and  exceedingly  slender ;  from 
eighteen  inches  to  two  feet  is  a  very  common  length,  and  I  killed 
one,  where  the  distance  from  the  shoulder  to  the  extremity  of  the 
head  was  no  less  than  three  feet  ten  inches.  The  head  has  a 
striking  resemblance  to  that  of  a  serpent.  They  can  exist  with- 
out food  for  an  almost  incredible  length  of  time,  instances  having 
been  known  where  they  have  been  thrown  into  the  hold  of  a 
vessel  and  lain  two  years  without  nourishment  of  any  kind — 
being  as  fat,  and,  in  every  respect,  in  as  good  order  at  the  expi- 
ration of  the  time  as  when  they  were  first  put  in.  In  one  par- 
ticular these  extraordinary  animals  bear  a  resemblance  to  the 
dromedary,  or  camel  of  the  desert.  In  a  bag  at  the  root  of  the 
neck  they  carry  with  them  a  constant  supply  of  water.  In  some 
instances,  upon  killing  them  after  a  full  year's  deprivation  of  all 
nourishment,  as  much  as  three  gallons  of  perfectly  sweet  and 
iresh  water  have  been  found  in  their  bags.  Their  food  is  chiefly 
wild  parsley  and  celery,  with  purslain,  sea-kelp,  and  prickly-pears, 
u'|xm  which  latter  vegetable  they  thrive  wonderfully,  a  great 
quantity  of  it  being  usually  found  on  the  hill-sides  near  the  shore 
wherever  the  animal  itself  is  discovered.  They  are  excellent  and 
highly  nutritious  food,  and  have,  no  doubt,  been  the  means  aC 
preserving  the  lives  of  thousands  of  seamen  employed  in  the 
whale-fishery  and  other  pursuits  in  the  Pacific. 

The  one  which  we  had  the  good  fortune  to  bring  up  from  the 
storeroom  was  not  of  a  large  size,  weighing  probably  sixty-five 
or  seventy  pounds.  It  was  a  female,  and  in  excellent  condition, 
being  exceedingly  fat,  and  having  more  than  a  quart  of  limpid 
and  sweet  water  in  its  bag.  This  was  indeed  a  treasure  ;  and, 
falling  on  our  knees  with  one  accord,  we  returned  fervent  thanks 
to  God  for  so  seasonable  a  relief. 

VT  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  the  animal  up  through  the 
opening,  as  it~  struggles  were  fierce  and  its  strength  prodigious. 
It  was  upon  the  point  of  making  its  escape  from  Peter's  grasp,  and 
slipping  back  into  the  water,  when  Augustus,  throwing  a  rope 
with  a  slip-knot  around  its  throat,  held  it  up  in  this  manner  until 


108  NARRATIVE  OF 

I  jumped  into  the  hole  by  the  side  of  Peters,  and  assisted  him  in 
lifting  it  out. 

The  water  we  drew  carefully  from  the  bag  into  the  jug,  which, 
it  will  be  remembered,  had  been  brought  up  before  from  the 
cabin.  Having  done  this,  we  broke  off  the  neck  of  a  bottle  so  as 
to  form,  with  the  cork,  a  kind  of  glass,  holding  not  quite  half  a 
g.ll.  We  then  each  drank  one  of  these  measures  full,  and  re- 
solved to  limit  ourselves  to  this  quantity  per  day  as  long  as  it 
should  hold  out. 

During  the  last  two  or  three  days,  the  weather  having  been 
dry  and  pleasant,  the  bedding  we  had  obtained  from  the  cabin, 
as  well  as  our  clothing,  had  become  thoroughly  dry,  so  that  we 
passed  this  night  (that  of  the  twenty-third)  in  comparative  com- 
fort, enjoying  a  tranquil  repose,  after  having  supped  plentifully 
on  olives  and  ham,  with  a  small  allowance  of  the  wine.  Being 
afraid  of  losing  some  of  our  stores  overboard  during  the  night,  in 
the  event  of  a  breeze  springing  up,  we  secured  them  as  well  as 
possible  with  cordage  to  the  fragments  of  the  windlass.  Our 
tortoise,  which  we  were  anxious  to  preserve  alive  as  long  as  we 
(could,  we  threw  on  his  back,  and  otherwise  carefully  fastened 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

JULY  24.  This  morning  saw  us  wonderfully  recruited  in  spirits 
and  strength.  Notwithstanding  the  perilous  situation  in  which 
we  were  still  placed,  ignorant  of  our  position,  although  certainly 
at  a  great  distance  from  land,  without  more  food  than  would  last 
us  for  a  fortnight  even  with  great  care,  almost  entirely  without 
water,  and  floating  about  at  the  mercy  of  every  wind  and  wave 
on  the  merest  wreck  in  the  world,  still  the  infinitely  more  terrible 
distresses  and  dangers  from  which  we  had  so  lately  and  so  provi- 
dentially been  delivered  caused  us  to  regard  what  we  now  endured 
as  but. little  more  than  an  ordinary  evil — so  strictly  comparative 
is  either  good  or  ill. 

At  sunrise  we  were  preparing  to  renew  our  attempts  at  getting 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  109 

up  something  from  the  store-room,  when,  a  smart  slower  coming 
on.  with  some  lightning,  we  turned  our  attention  to  the  catching  of 
water  by  means  of  the  sheet  we  had  used  before  for  this  purpose. 
We  had  no  other  means  of  collecting  the  rain  than  by  holding 
the  sheet  spread  out  with  one  of  the  forechain-plates  in  the  middle 
of  it.  The  water,  thus  conducted  to  the  centre,  was  drained 
through  in  to  our  jug.  We  had  nearly  filled  it  in  this  manner,  when, 
a  heavy  squall  coming  on  from  the  northward,  obliged  us  to  de- 
sist, as  the  hulk  began  once  more  to  roll  so  violently  that  we 
could  no  longer  keep  our  feet.  We  now  went  forward,  and, 
lashing  ourselves  securely  to  the  remnant  of  the  windlass  as  be- 
fore, awaited  the  event  with  far  more  calmness  than  could  have 
been  anticipated  or  would  have  been  imagined  possible  under 
the  circumstances.  At  noon  the  wind  had  freshened  into  a  two- 
reef  breeze,  and  by  night  into  a  stiff  gale,  accompanied  with  a 
tremendously  heavy  swell.  Experience  having  taught  us,  however, 
the  best  method  of  arranging  our  lashings,  we  weathered  this 
dreary  night  in  tolerable  security,  although  thoroughly  drenched 
at  almost  every  instant  by  the  sea,  and  in  momentary  dread  of 
being  washed  off.  Fortunately,  the  weather  was  so  warm  as  to 
render  the  water  rather  grateful  than  otherwise. 

July  25.  This  morning  the  gale  had  diminished  to  a  mere 
ten-knot  breeze,  and  the  sea  had  gone  down  with  it  so  consider- 
ably that  we  were  able  to  keep  ourselves  dry  upon  the  deck.  To 
our  great  grief,  however,  we  found  that  two  jars  of  our  olives,  as 
well  as  the  whole  of  our  ham,  had  been  washed  overboard,  in 
spite  of  the  careful  manner  in  which  they  had  been  fastened.  We 
determined  not  to  kill  the  tortoise  as  yet,  and  contented  ourselves 
for  the  present  with  a  breakfast  on  a  few  of  the  olives,  and  a 
measure  of  water  each,  which  latter  we  mixed,  half  and  half, 
with  wine,  finding  great  relief  and  strength  from  the  mixture, 
without  the  distressing  intoxication  which  had  ensued  upon 
drinking  the  Port.  The  sea  was  still  far  too  rough  for  the  re- 
newal of  our  efforts  at  getting  up  provision  from  the  store-room. 
Several  articles,  of  no  importance  to  us  in  our  present  situation, 
floated  up  through  the  opening  during  the  day,  and  were  imme- 
diately washed  overboard.  We  also  now  obs«  rved  that  the  hulk 
lay  more  along  than 'ever,  so  that  we  could  not  stand  an  ins'.aut 


110  NARRATIVE   OF 

'  without  lashing  ourselves.  On  this  account  we  passed  a  gloomy 
and  uncomfortable  day.  At  noon  the  sun  appeared  to  be  nearly 
vertical,  and  we  had  no  doubt  that  we  had  been  driven  down  by 
the  long  succession  of  northward  and  northwesterly  winds  into 
the  near  vicinity  of  the  equator.  Towards  evening  saw  several 
sharks,  and  were  somewhat  alarmed  by  the  audacious  manner  in 
which  an  enormously  large  one  approached  us.  At  one  time,  a 
lurch  throwing  the  deck  very  far  beneath  the  water,  the  monster 
actually  swam  in  upon  us,  floundering  for  some  moments  just 
over  the  companion-hatch,  and  striking  Peters  violently  with  his 
tail.  A  heavy  sea  at  length  hurled  him  overboard,  much  to  our 
•relief.  In  moderate  weather  we  might  have  easily  captured 
him. 

July  26.  This  morning,  the  wind  having  greatly  abated,  and 
the  sea  not  being  very  rough,  we  determined  to  renew  our  exer- 
tions in  the  store-room.  After  a  great  deal  of  hard  labor  during 
the  whole  day,  we  found  that  nothing  further  was  to  be  expected 
from  this  quarter,  the  partitions  of  the  room  having  been  stove 
during  the  night,  and  its  contents  swept  into  the  hold.  This  dis- 
covery, as  may  be  supposed,  filled  us  with  despair. 

July  27.  The  sea  nearly  smooth,  with  a  light  wind,  and  still 
from  the  northward  and  westward.  The  sun  coming  out  hotly 
in  the  afternoon,  we  occupied  ourselves  in  drying  our  clothes. 
Found  great  relief  from  thirst,  and  much  comfort  otherwise,  by 
bathing  in  the  sea ;  in  this,  however,  we  were  forced  to  use  great 
caution,  being  afraid  of  sharks,  several  of  which  were  seen  swim- 
ming around  the  brig  during  the  day. 

July  28.  Good  weather  still.  The  brig  now  began  to  lie 
along  so  alarmingly  that  we  feared  she  would  eventually  roll 
bottom  up.  Prepared  ourselves  as  well  as  we  could  for  this 
emergency,  lashing  our  tortoise,  water-jug,  and  two  remaining  jars 
of  olives  as  far  as  possible  over  to  the  windward,  placing  them 
outside  the  hull,  below  the  main-chains.  The  sea  very  smooth 
?.U  day,  with  little  or  no  wind. 

July  29.  A  continuance  of  the  same  weather.  Augustus's 
wounded  arm  began  to  evince  symptoms  of  mortification.  He 
complained  of  drowsiness  and  excessive  thirst,  but  no  acute  pain. 
Nothing  could  be  done  for  his  relief  beyon'1  rubbing  his  wound* 


A.  GORDOM   PYM.  Ill 

with  a  little  of  the  vinegar  from  the  olives,  and  from  this  no  ben- 
efit, seemed  to  be  experienced.  We  did  everything  in  our  power 
for  his  comfort,  and  trebled  his  allowance  of  water.  . 

July  30.  An  excessively  hot  day,  with  no  wind.  An  enormous 
shark  kept  close  by  the  hulk  during  the  whole  of  the  forenoon. 
We  made  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  capture  him  by  means 
of  a  noose.  Augustus  much  worse,  and  evidently  sinking  as 
much  from  want  of  proper  nourishment  as  from  the  effect  of  his 
wounds.  Pie  constantly  prayed  to  be  released  from  his  suffer- 
ings, wishing  for  nothing  but  death.  This  evening  we  ate  the 
last  of  our  olives,  and  found  the  water  in  our  jug  so  putrid  that 
\ve  could  not  swallow  it  at  all  without  the  addition  of  wine. 
Determined  to  kill  our  tortoise  in  the  morning. 

July  31.  After  a  night  of  excessive  anxiety  and  fatigue, 
owing  to  the  position  of  the  hulk,  we  set  about  killing  and  cutting 
up  our  tortoise.  He  proved  to  be  much  smaller  than  we  had  sup- 
posed, although  in  good  condition — the  whole  meat  about  him 
not  amounting  to  more  than  ten  pounds.  With  a  view  of  pre- 
serving a  portion  of  this  as  long  as  possible,  we  cut  it  into  fine 
pieces,  ami  filled  with  them  our  three  remaining  olive-jars  and 
the  wine-bottle  (all  of  which  had  been  kept),  pouring  in  after- 
ward the  vinegar  from  the  olives.  In  this  manner  we  put  away 
about  three  pounds  of  the  tortoise,  intending  not  to  touch  it  until 
we  had  consumed  the  rest.  We  concluded  to  restrict  ourselves 
to  about  four  ounces  of  the  meat  per  day  ;  the  whole  would  thus 
last  us  thirteen  days.  A  brisk  shower,  with  severe  thunder  and 
lightning,  came  on  about  dusk,  but  lasted  so  short  a  time  that  we 
only  succeeded  in  catching  about  half  a  pint  of  water.  The 
whole  of  this,  by  common  consent,  was  given  to  Augustus,  who 
now  appeared  to  be  in  the  last  extremity.  He  drank  the  water 
from  the  sheet  as  we  caught  it  (we  holding  it  above  him  as  he 
lay  so  as  to  let  it  run  into  his  mouth),  for  we  had  now  nothing 
left  capable  of  holding  water,  unless  we  had  chosen  to  empty  out 
our  wine  from  the  carboy,  or  the  stale  water  from  the  jug.  Either 
of  these  expedients  would  have  been  resorted  to  had  the  shower 
lasted. 

The  sufferer  seemed  to  derive  but  little  benefit  from  the 
draught.  His  arm  was  completely  black  from  the  wrist  to  tho 


112  NARRATIVE  OF 

shoulder,  and  his  feet  were  like  ice.  We  expected  every  mo- 
ment to  see  him  breathe  his  last.  He  was  frightfully  emaciated  : 
so  much  so  that,  although  he  weighed  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
seven  pounds  upon  his  leaving  Nantucket,  he  now  did  not  weigh 
more  than  forty  or  fifty  at  the  farthest.  His  eyes  were  sunk  far 
in  his  head,  being  scarcely  perceptible,  and  the  skin  of  his  cheeka 
hung  so  loosely  as  to  pi-event  his  masticating  any  food,  or  even 
swallowing  any  liquid,  without  great  difficulty. 

August  1.  A  continuance  of  the  same  calm  weather,  with  an 
oppressively  hot  sun.  Suffered  exceedingly  from  thirst,  the 
water  in  the  jug  being  absolutely  putrid  and  swarming  with 
vermin.  We  contrived,  nevertheless,  to  swallow  a  portion  of  it 
by  mixing  it  with  wine — our  thirst,  however,  was  but  little 
abated.  We  found  more  relief  by  bathing  in  the  sea,  but  could 
not  avail  ourselves  of  this  expedient  except  at  long  intervals,  on 
account  of  the  continual  presence  of  sharks.  We  now  ?avv 
clearly  that  Augustus  could  not  be  saved ;  that  he  was  evidently 
dying.  We  could  do  nothing  to  relieve  his  sufferings,  which 
appeared  to  be  great.  About  twelve  o'clock  he  expired  in  strong 
convulsions,  and  without  having  spoken  for  several  hours.  His 
death  filled  us  with  the  most  gloomy  forebodings,  and  had  so 
great  an  effect  upon  our  spirits  that  we  sat  motionless  by  the 
corpse  during  the  whole  day,  and  never  addressed  each  other 
except  in  a  whisper.  It  was  not  until  some  time  after  dark  that 
we  took  courage  to  get  up  and  throw  the  body  overboard.  It 
was  then  loathsome  beyond  expression,  and  so  far  decayed  that, 
as  Peters  attempted  to  lift  it,  an  entire  leg  came  off  in  his  grasp. 
As  the  mass  of  putrefaction  slipped  over  the  vessel's  side  into  the 
water,  the  glare  of  phosphoric  light  with  which  it  was  surrounded 
plainly  discovered  to  us  seven  or  eight  large  sharks,  the  clashing 
of  whose  horrible  teeth,  as  their  prey  was  torn  to  pieces  among 
them,  might  have  been  heard  at  the  distance  of  a  mile.  We 
shrunk  within  ourselves  in  the  extremity  of  horror  at  the  sound. 

August  2.  The  sttme  fearfully  calm  and  hot  weather.  The  dawn 
found  us  in  a  state  of  pitiable  dejection  as  well  as  bodily  ex- 
haustion. The  water  in  the  jug  was  now  absolutely  useless« 
being  a  thick  gelatinous  mass ;  nothing  but  frightful-looking 
worms  mingled  with  slime.  We  threw  it  out,  and  washed  thn 


A   GORDON  PYM.  113 

jug  well  in  the  «ea,  afterward  pouring  a  little  vinegar  in  it  from 
our  bottles  of  pickled  tortoise.  Our  thirst  could  no\v  scarcely  be 
endured,  and  we  tried  in  vain  to  relieve  it  by  wine,  which  seemed 
only  to  add  fuel  to  the  flame,  and  excited  us  to  a  high  degree  of 
intoxication.  We  after  Yard  endeavored  to  relieve  our  suffer- 
ings by  mixing  the  wine  with  seawater ;  but  this  instantly 
brought  about  the  most  violent  retchings,  so  that  we  never  again 
attempted  it.  Dui-ing  the  whole  day  we  anxiously  sought  an 
opportunity  of  bathing,  but  to  no  purpose  ;  for  the  hulk  was  now 
entirely  besieged  on  all  sides  with  sharks — no  doubt  the  identical 
monsters  who  had  devoured  our  poor  companion  on  the  evening 
before,  and  who  were  in  momentary  expectation  of  another  simi- 
lar feast.  This  circumstance  occasioned  us  the  most  bitter 
regret,  and  filled  us  with  the  most  depressing  and  melancholy 
forebodings.  We  had  experienced  indescribable  relief  in  bathing, 
and  to  have  this  resource  cut  off  in  so  frightful  a  manner  was 
more  than  we  could  bear.  Nor,  indeed,  were  we  altogether  free 
from  the  apprehension  of  immediate  danger,  for  the  least  slip  or 
false  movement  would  have  thrown  us  at  once  within  reach  of 
these  voracious  fish,  who  frequently  thrust  themselves  directly 
upon  us,  swimming  up  to  leeward.  No  shouts  or  exertions  on  our 
part  seemed  to  alarm  them.  Even  when  one  of  the  largest  was 
struck  with  an  axe  by  Peters,  and  much  wounded,  he  persisted 
in  his  attempts  to  push  in  where  we  were.  A  cloud  came  up  at 
dusk,  but,  to  our  extreme  anguish,  passed  over  without  discharg- 
ing itself.  It  is  quite  impossible  to  conceive  our  sufferings  from 
thirst  at  this  pesiod.  We  passed  a  sleepless  night,  both  on  this 
account  and  through  dread  of  the  sharks. 

August  3.  No  prospect  of  relief,  and  the  brig  lying  still  more 
and  more  along,  so  that  now  we  could  not  maintain  a  footing 
upon  deck  at  all.  Busied  ourselves  in  securing  our  wine  and 
tortoise-meat,  so  that  we  might  not  lose  them  in  the  event  of 
our  rolling  over.  Got  out  two  stout  spikes  from  the  forechains, 
and,  by  means  of  the  axe,  drove  them  into  the  hull  to  windward 
within  a  couple  of  feet  of  the  water ;  this  not  being  very  far  from 
the  keel,  as  we  were  nearly  upon  our  beam-ends.  To  these  Bpikef 
we  now  lashed  our  provisions,  as  being  more  secure  than  their 
former  position  beneath  the  chams.  Suffered  great  agony  frou* 


114  NARRATIVE  OF 

thirst  during1  the  whole  day — no  chance  of  bathing  on  account  o 
the  sharks,  which  never  left  us  for  a  moment.     Found  it  impos- 
sible to  sleep. 

August  4.  A  little  before  daybreak  we  perceived  that  the 
hulk  was  heeling  over,  and  aroused  ourselves  to  prevent  being 
thrown  off  by  the  movement.  At  first  the  roll  was  slow  and 
gradual,  and  we  contrived  to  clamber  over  to  windward  very 
well,  having  taken  the  precaution  to  leave  ropes  hanging  from 
the  spikes  we  had  driven  in  for  the  provision.  But  we  had  not 
calculated  sufficiently  upon  the  acceleration  of  the  impetus  ;  Cor, 
presently  the  heel  became  too  violent  to  allow  of  our  keeping 
pace  with  it ;  and,  before  either  of  us  knew  what  was  to  happen, 
we  found  ourselves  hurled  furiously  into  the  sea,  and  struggling 
several  fathoms  beneath  the  surface,  with  the  huge  hull  immedi- 
ately above  us. 

In  going  under  the  water  I  had  been  obliged  to  let  go  my  hold 
upon  the  rope ;  and  finding  that  I  was  completely  beneath  the 
vessel,  and  my  strength  utterly  exhausted,  I  scarcely  made  a 
struggle  for  life,  and  resigned  myself,  in  a  few  seconds,  to  die, 
But  here  again  I  was  deceived,  not  having  taken  into  considera- 
tion the  natural  rebound  of  the  hull  to  windward.  The  whirl  of 
the  water  upward,  which  the  vessel  occasioned  in  rolling  partially 
back,  brought  me  to  the  surface  still  more  violently  than  I  had 
been  plunged  beneath.  Upon  coming  up,  I  found  myself  about 
twenty  yards  from  the  hulk,  as  near  as  I  could  judge.  She  was 
lying  keel  up,  rocking  furiously  from  side  to  side,  and  the  sea  in 
all  directions  around  was  much  agitated,  and  full  of  strong  whirl- 
pools. I  could  see  nothing  of  Peters.  An  oil-cask  was  floating 
within  a  few  feet  of  me,  and  various  other  articles  from  the  brig 
were  scattered  about. 

My  principal  terror  was  now  on  account  of  the  sharks,  which 
I  knew  to  be  in  my  vicinity.  In  order  to  deter  these,  if  possible, 
from  approaching  me,  I  splashed  the  water,  vigorously  with  both 
hands  and  feet  as  I  swam  towards  the  hulk,  creating  a' body  of 
foam  I  have  no  doubt  that  to  this  expedient,  simple  as  it  was, 
I  was  indebted  for  my  preservation;  for  the  sea  all  around  the 
brig,  just  before  her  rolling  over,  was  so  crowded  with  these 
monsters,  that  I  must  have  been,  nnd  really  was.  in  actual  contact 


A    GORDON  PYM.  115 

with  some  of  them  during  my  progress.  By  great  good  fortune, 
however,  I  reached  the  side  of  the  vessel  in  safety,  although  so 
utterl)  weakened  by  the  violent  exertion  I  had  used  that  I  should 
never  have  been  able  to  get  upon  it  but  for  the  timely  assistance 
of  Peters,  who  now,  to  my  great  joy,  made  his  appearance 
(having  scrambled  up  to  the  keel  from  the  oppo>ite  side  of  the 
hull),  and  threw  me  the  end  of  a  rope — one  of  those  which  had 
been  attached  to  the  spikes. 

Having  barely  escaped  this  danger,  our  attention  was  now 
directed  to  the  dreadful  imminency  of  another;  that  of  absolute 
starvation.  Our  whole  stock  of  provision  had  been  swept  over- 
board in  spite  of  all  our  care  in  securing  it ;  and  seeing  no  longer 
the  remotest  possibility  of  obtaining  more,  we  gave  way  both  of 
us  to  despair,  weeping  aloud  like  children,  and  neither  of  us 
attempting  to  offer  consolation  to  the  other.  Such  weakness  can 
scarcely  be  conceived,  and  to  those  who  have  never  been  simi- 
larly situated  will,  no  doubt,  appear  unnatural ;  but  it  must  be 
remembered  that  our  intellects  were  so  entirely  disordered  by  the 
long  course  of  privation  and  terror  to  which  we  had  been  sub- 
jected, that  we  could  not  justly  be  considered,  at  that  perid,  in 
the  light  of  rational  beings.  In  subsequent  perils,  nearly  as 
great,  if  not  greater,  I  bore  up  with  fortitude  against  all  the  evils 
of  my  situation,  and  Peters,  it  will  be  seen,  evinced  a  stoical  phi- 
losophy nearly  as  incredible  as  his  present  childlike  supineness 
and  imbecility — the  mental  condition  made  the  difference. 

The  overturning  of  the  brig,  even  with  the  consequent  loss  of 
the  wine  and  turtle,  would  not,  in  fact,  have  rendered  our  situa- 
tion more  deplorable  than  before,  except  for  the  disappearance  of 
the  bedclothes  by  which  we  had  been  hitherto  enabled  to  catcl 
rain-water,  and  of  the  jug  in  which  .we  had  kep.,  it  when  caught ; 
for  we  found  the  whole  bottom,  from  within  two  or  three  feet  of 
the  bends  as  far  as  the  keel,  together  with  the  keel  itself,  thickly 
covered  with  large  barnacles,  which  proved  to  be  excellent  and 
highly  nutritious  food.  Thus,  in  two  important  respects,  the 
accident  we  had  so  greatly  dreaded  proved  a  benefit  rather  than 
an  injury ;  it  had  opened  to  us  a  supply  of  provisions,  which  we 
could  not  have  exhausted,  using  it  moderately,  in  a  month  ;  and 
it  had  greatly  contributed  to  oin*  comfort  as  regards  position,  we 


116  NARRATIVE  OF 

being  much  more  at  our  ease,  and  in  infinitely  less  danger,  thai 
before. 

The  difficulty,  however,  of  now  obtaining  water  blinded  us  tci 
all  the  benefits  of  the  change  in  our  condition.  That  we  might 
be  ready  to  avail  ourselves,  as  far  as  possible,  of  any  shower 
which  might  fall,  we  took  off  our  shirts,  to  make  use  of  them  as 
\ve  had  of  the  sheets — not  hoping,  of  course,  to  get  more  in  this 
way,  even  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  than  half  a 
gill  at  a  time.  No  signs  of  a  cloud  appeared  during  the  day,  arid 
the  agonies  of  our  thirst  were  nearly  intolerable.  At  night, 
Peters  obtained  about  an  hour's  disturbed  sleep,  but  my  intense 
Bufferings  would  not  permit  me  to  close  my  eyes  for  a  single 
moment. 

August  5.  To-day,  a  gentle  breeze  springing  up,  carried  us 
through  a  vast  quantity  of  seaweed,  among  which  we  were  so 
fortunate  as  to  find  eleven  small  crabs,  which  afforded  us  several 
delicious  meals.  Their  shells  being  quite  soft,  we  ate  them  en- 
tire, and  found  that  they  irritated  our  thirst  far  less  than  the 
barnacles.  Seeing  no  trace  of  sharks  among  the  seaweed,  we 
also  ventured  to  bathe,  and  remained  in  the  water  for  four  or 
five  hours,  during  which  we  experienced  a  very  sensible  diminu- 
tion of  our  thirst.  Were  greatly  refreshed,  and  spent  the  night 
somewhat  more  comfortably  than  before,  both  of  us  snatching  a 
.  little  sleep. 

August  6.  This  day  we  were  blessed  by  a  brisk  and  continual 
rain,  lasting  from  about  noon  until  after  dark.  Bitterly  did  we 
now  regret  the  loss  of  our  jug  and  carboy ;  for,  in  spite  of  the 
little  means  we  had  of  catching  the  water,  we  might  have  filled 
one,  if  not  both  of  them.  As  it  was,  we  contrived  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  thirst  by  suffering  the  shirts  to  become  saturated,  and 
then  wringing  them  so  as  to  let  the  grateful  fluid  trickle  into  our 
mouths.  In  this  occupation  we  passed  the  entire  day; 

August  7.  Just  at  daybreak  we  both  at  the  same  instant 
descried  a  sail  to  the  eastward,  and  evidently  coming  towards  us! 
We  hailed  the  glorious  sight  with  a  long,  although  feeble  shout 
of  rapture;  and  began  instantly  to  make  every  signal  in  out 
power,  by  flaring  the  shirts  in  the  air,  leaping  as  high  as  our 
weak  condition  would  permit,  aod  even  by  hallooing  with  all  the 


A.  GORDON  PV.M.  117 

strength  of  our  lungs,  although  the  vessel  could  not  have  been 
less  than  fifteen  miles  distant.  However,  she  still  continued  to 
near  our  hulk,  and  \ve  felt  that,  if  she  but  held  her  present 
course,  she  must  eventually  come  so  close  as  to  perceive  us.  In 
about  an  hour  after  we  first  discovered  her.  we  could  clearly  see 
the  people  on  her  decks.  She  was  a  long,  low,  and  rakish-look- 
ing topsail  schooner,  with  a  black  ball  in  her  foretopsail,  and 
had,  apparently,  a  full  crew.  We  now  became  alarmed,  for  we 
could  hardly  imagine  it  possible  that  she  did  not  observe  us,  and 
were  apprehensive  that  she  meant  to  leave  us  to  perish  as  we 
were — an  act  of  fiendish  barbarity,  which,  however  incredible  it 
may  appear,  has  been  repeatedly  perpetrated  at  sea,  under  cir- 
cumstances very  nearly  similar,  and  by  beings  who  were  regard- 
ed as  belonging  to  the  human  species.*  In  this  instance,  how- 
ever, by  the  mercy  of  God,  we  were  destined  to  be  most  happily 

*  The  case  of  the  brig  Polly,  of  Boston,  is  one  so  much  in  point,  and  her 
fate,  in  many  respecls,  so  remarkably  similar  to  our  own,  that  I  cannot  for- 
bear alluding  to  it  here.  This  vessel,  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  tons  burden, 
sailed  from  Boston,  with  a  cargo  of  lumber  and  provisions,  for  Santa  Croix, 
on  the  twelfth  of  December,  1811,  under  the  command  of  Captain  Casneau. 
There  were  eight  souls  on  board  besides  the  captain — the  mate,  four  sea- 
men, and  the  cook,  together  with  a  Mr.  Hunt,  and  a  negro  girl  belonging  to 
him.  On  the  fifteenth,  having  cleared  the  shoal  of  Georges,  she  sprung  aleak 
in  a  gale  of  wind  from  the  southeast,  and  was  finally  capsized  :  but,  the  mast 
going  by  the  board,  she  afterward  righted.  They  remained  in  this  situa- 
tion, without  fire,  and  with  very  little  provision,  for  the  period  of  one  hun- 
dred and  ninety-one  days  (from  December  the  fifteenth  to  June  the  twentieth), 
when  Captain  Casneau  and  Samuel  Badger,  the  only  survivors,  were  taken 
off  the  wreck  by  the  Fame,  of  Hull,  Captain  Featherstone.  bound  home  from 
Rio  Janeiro.  When  picked  up,  they  were  in  latitude  28°  N.,  longitude  13° 
W.,  having  drifted  above  two  thousand  miles  !  On  the  ninth  of  July,  the 
Fame  fell  in  with  the  brig  Dromeo,  Captain  Perkins,  who  landed  the  two 
uurTerers  in  Kennebeck.  The  narrative  from  which  we  gather  these  details, 
ends  in  the  following  words  : 

"  It  is  natural  to  inquire  how  they  could  float  such  a  vast  distance,  upon 
the  most  frequented  part  of  the  Atlantic,  and  not  be  discovered  all  this  timet 
They  were  passed  by  more  than  a  dozen  sail,  one  of  which  came  so  nigh  them 
that  they  could  distinctly  see  the  people  on  deck  and  on  the  rigging-  looking  a 
them  ;  but,  to  the  inexpressible  disappointment  of  the  starving  anil  freezing 
men,  they  stifled  the  iictalcs  of  compassion,  hoisted  sail,  and  cruelly  alii>doii<,a 
them  to  their  fate." 


113  NARRATIVE  OF 

deceived  ;  for,  presently  we  were  aware  of  a  sudden  commotion 
on  the  deck  of  the  stranger,  who  immediately  afterward  run  n\: 
a  British  flag,  and,  hauling  her  wind,  bore  up  directly  upon  us. 
In  half  an  hour  more  we  found  ourselves  in  her  cabin.  She 
proved  to  be  the  Jane  Guy,  of  Liverpool,  Captain  Guy,  bound 
on  a  sealing  and  trading  voyage  to  the  South  Seas  and  Pacific. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  Jane  Guy  was  a  fine-looking  topsail  schooner  of  a  him 
dred  and  eighty  tons  burden.  She  was  unusually  sharp  in  the 
bows,  and  on  a  wind,  in  moderate  weather,  the  fastest  sailer  I 
have  ever  seen.  Her  qualities,  however,  as  a  rough  sea-boat, 
were  not  so  good,  and  her  draught  of  water  was  by  far  too  great 
for  the  trade  to  which  she  was  destined.  For  this  peculiar  ser- 
vice, a  larger  vessel,  and  one  of  a  light  proportionate  draught,  is 
desirable — say  a  vessel  of  from  three  to  three  hundred  and  fifty 
tons.  She  should  be  barque-rigged,  and  in  other  respects  of  a 
different  construction  from  the  usual  South  Sea  ships.  It  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  she  should  be  well  armed.  She  should 
have,  say  ten  or  twelve  twelve-pound  carronades,  and  two  or 
three  long  twelves,  with  brass  blunderbusses,  and  water-tight 
arm-chests  for  each  top.  Her  anchors  and  cables  should  be  of 
far  greater  strength  than  is  required  for  any  other  species  of 
trade,  and,  above  all,  her  crew  should  be  numerous  and  efficient 
not  less,  for  such  a  vessel  as  I  have  described,  than  fifty  or  sixty 
able-bodied  men.  The  Jane  Guy  had  a  crew  of  thirty-five,  all 
able  seamen,  besides  the  captain  and  mate,  but  she  was  not  alto- 
gether as  well  armed  or  otherwise  equipped,  as  a  navigator  ac- 
quainted with  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  trade  could  have 
desired. 

Captain  Guy  was  a  gentleman  of  great  urbanity  of  manner, 
and  of  considerable  experience  in  the  southern  traffic,  to  which 
he  had  devoted  a  greater  portion  of  his  life.  He  was  deficient, 
however,  in  energy,  and  consequently,  in  that  spirit  of  enterprise 
which  is  here  so  absolutoly  requisite.  He  was  part  owner  of  the 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  119 

vessel  in  which  he  sailed,  and  was  invested  with  discretionary 
powers  to  cruise  in  the  South  Seas  for  any  cargo  which  might 
come  most  readily  to  hand.  He  had  on  board,  as  usual  in  such 
voyages,  beads,  looking-glasses,  tinder-work?,  axes,  hatchets, 
saws,  adzes,  planes,  chisels,  gouges,  gimlets,  files,  spokeshaves, 
rasps,  hammers,  nails,  knives,  scissors,  razors,  needles,  thread, 
crockeryware,  calico,  trinkets,  and  other  similar  articles. 

The  schooner  sailed  from  Liverpool  on  the  tenth  of  July, 
crossed  the  tropic  of  Cancer  on  the  twenty-fifth,  in  longitude 
twenty  degrees  West,  and  reached  Sal,  one  of  the  Cape  Verd 
Islands,  on  the  twenty-ninth,  Avhere  she  took  in  salt  and  other 
necessaries  for  the  voyage.  On  the  third  of  August,  she  left  the 
Cape  Verds  and  steered  southwest,  stretching  over  towards  the 
coast  of  Brazil,  so  as  to  cross  the  equator  between  the  meridians 
of  twenty-eight  and  thirty  degrees  west  longitude.  This  is  the 
course  usually  taken  by  vessels  bound  from  Europe  to  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  or  by  that  route  to  the  East  Indies.  By  proceed- 
ing thus  they  avoid  the  calms  and  strong  contrary  currents  which 
continually  prevail  on  the  coast  of  Guinea,  while,  in  the  end,  it 
is  found  to  be  the  shortest  track,  as  westerly  winds  are  never 
wanting  afterward  by  which  to  reach  the  Cape.  It  was  Captain 
Guy's  intention  to  make  his  first  stoppage  at  Kerguelen's  Land — • 
I  hardly  know  for  what  reason.  On  the  day  we  were  picked  up 
the  schooner  was  off  Cape  St.  Roque,  in  longitude  thirty-one 
degrees  west ;  so  that,  when  found,  we  had  drifted  probably, 
from  north  to  south,  not  less  than  five-and-twenty  degrees  ! 

On  board  the  Jane  Guy  we  were  treated  with  all  the  kindness 
our  distressed  situation  demanded.  In  about  a  fortnight,  during 
which  time  we  continued  steering  to  the  southeast,  with  gentle 
breezes  and  fine  weather,  both  Peters  and  myself  recovered 
entirely  from  the  effects  of  our  late  privation  and  dreadful  suffer- 
ing, and  we  began  to  remember  what  had  passed  rather  as  a 
frightful  dream  from  which  we  had  been  happily  awakened,  than 
as  events  which  had  taken  place  in  sober  and  naked  reality.  I 
have  since  found  that  this  species  of  partial  oblivion  is  usually 
brought  about  by  sudden  transition,  whether  from  joy  to  sorrow 
or  from  sorrow  to  joy — the  degree  of  forgetfulness  being  pro- 
portioned to  the  degree  of  difference  in  the  exchange.  Thus,  in 


120  NARRATIVE  OF 

my  own  case,  I  now  feel  it  impossible  to  realize  ilm  full  extent 
of  the  misery  which  I  endured  during  the  days  spent  upon  Ilie 
hulk.  The  incidents  are  remembered,  but  not  the  feelings  which 
the  incidents  elicited  at  the  time  of  their  occurrence.  I  only 
know,  that  when  they  did  occur,  I  then  thought  human  nature 
could  sustain  nothing  more  of  agony. 

We  continued  our  voyage  for  some  weeks  without  any  inci- 
dents of  greater  moment  than  the  occasional  meeting  with 
whaling-ships,  and  more  frequently  with  the  black  or  right  whale, 
BO  called  in  contradistinction  to  the  spermaceti.  These,  how- 
ever, were  chiefly  found  south  of  the  twenty-fifth  parallel.  OH 
the  sixteenth  of  September,  being  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  the  schooner  encountered  her  first  gale  of  any  vio- 
lence since  leaving  Liverpool.  In  this  neighborhood,  but  more 
frequently  to  the  south  and  east  of  the  promontory  (we  were  to 
the  westward),  navigators  have  often  to  contend  with  storms 
from  the  northward,  which  rage  with  great  fury.  They  always 
bring  with  them  a  heavy  sea,  and  one  of  their  most  dangerous 
features  is  the  instantaneous  chopping  round  of  the  wind,  an 
occurrence  almost  certain  to  take  place  during  the  greatest  force 
of  the  gale.  A  perfect  hurricane  will  be  blowing  at  one  moment 
from  the  northward  or  northeast,  and  in  the  next  not  a  breath  of 
wind  will  be  felt  in  that  direction,  while  from  the  southwest  it 
will  come  out  all  at  once  with  a  violence  almost  inconceivable. 
A  bright  spot  to  the  southward  is  the  sure  forerunner  of  the 
change,  and  vessels  are  thus  enabled  to  take  the  proper  precau- 
tions. 

It  was  about  six  in  the  morning  when  the  blow  came  on  with 
a  white  squall,  and,  as  usual,  from  the  northward.  By  eight  it 
had  increased  very  much,  and  brought  down  upon  us  one  of  the 
most  tremendous  seas  I  had  then  ever  beheld.  Everything  had 
been  made  as  snug  as  possible,  but  the  schooner  labored  exces- 
sively, and  gave  evidence  of  her  bad  qualities  as  a  seaboat, 
pitching  her  forecastle  under  at  every  plunge,  and  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  struggling  up  from  one  wave  before  she  was 
buried  in  another.  Just  before  sunset  the  bright  spot  for  which 
we  had  been  on  the  lookout  made  its  appearance  in  the  south- 
west, and  in  an  hour  afterward  we  perceived  the  little  head-sail. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  121 

we  carried  flapping  listlessly  against  the  mast.  In  two  minutes 
more,  in  spite  of  every  preparation,  we  were  hurled  on  our  beam- 
ends,  as  if  by  magic,  and  a  perfect  wilderness  of  foam  made  a 
clear  breach  over  us  as  we  lay.  The  blow  from  the  southwest, 
however,  luckily  proved  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  squall,  and 
we  had  the  good  fortune  to  right  the  vessel  without  the  loss  of  a 
spar.  A  heavy  cross  sea  gave  us  great  trouble  for  a  few  hours 
after  this,  but  towards  morning  we  found  ourselves  in  nearly  as 
good  condition  as  before  the  gale.  Captain  Guy  considered  that 
he  had  made  an  escape  little  less  than  miraculous. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  October  we  came  in  sight  of  Prince 
Edward's  Island,  in  latitude  46°  53'  S.,  longitude  37°  46'  E. 
Two  days  afterward  we  found  ourselves  near  Possession  Island, 
and  presently  passed  the  islands  of  Crozet,  in  latitude  42°  59'  S., 
longitude  48°  E.  On  the  eighteenth  we  made  Kerguelen's  or 
Desolation  Island,  in  the  Southern  Indian  Ocean,  and  came  to 
anchor  in  Christmas  Harbor,  having  four  fathoms  of  water. 

This  island,  or  rather  group  of  islands,  bears  southeast  from 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  is  distant  therefrom  nearly  eight 
hundred  leagues.  It  was  first  discovered  in  1772,  by  the  Baron 
de  Kergulen,  or  Kerguelen,  a  Frenchman,  who,  thinking  the  land 
'to  form  a  portion  of  an  extensive  southern  continent,  carried 
home  information  to  that  effect,  which  produced  much  excitement 
at  the  time.  The  government,  taking  the  matter  up,  sent  the 
baron  back  in  the  following  year  for  the  purpose  of  giving  his 
new  discovery  a  critical  examination,  when  the  mistake  was  dis- 
covered. In  1777,  Captain  Cook  fell  in  with  the  same  group, 
and  gave  to  the  principal  one  the  name  of  Desolation  Island,  a 
title  which  it  certainly  well  deserves.  Upon  approaching  the 
land,  however,  the  navigator  might  be  induced  to  suppose  other- 
wise, as  the  sides  of  most  of  the  hills,  from  September  to  March, 
are  clothed  with  very  brilliant  verdure.  This  deceitful  appear 
ance  is  caused  by  a  small  plant  resembling  saxifrage,  which  is 
abundant,  growing  in  large  patches  on  a  species  of  crumbling 
moss.  Besides  this  plant  there  is  scarcely  a  sign  of  vegetation 
on  the  island,  if  we  except  some  coarse  rank  grass  near  the  har 
bor,  some  lichen,  and  a  shrub  which  bears  resemblance  to  a 


122  NARRATIVE  OF 

cabbage  shooting  into  seed,  and  which  has  a  bitter  and  acrid 
taste. 

The  face  of  the  country  is  hilly,  although  none  of  the  hills  can 
be  called  lofty.  Their  tops  are  perpetually  covered  with  snow. 
There  are  several  harbors,  of  which  Christmas  Harbor  is  the 
most  convenient.  It  is  the  first  to  be  met  with  on  the  northeast 
side  of  the  island  after  passing  Cape  Francois,  which  forms  the 
northern  shore,  and,  by  its  peculiar  shape,  serves  to  distinguish 
the  harbor.  Its  projecting  point  terminates  in  a  high  rock, 
through  which  is  a  large  hole,  forming  a  natural  arch.  The 
entrance  is  in  latitude  48°  40'  S.,  longitude  69°  6'  E.  Passing 
in  here,  good  anchorage  may  be  found  under  the  shelter  of  several 
small  islands,  which  form  a  sufficient  protection  from  all  easterly 
winds.  Proceeding  on  eastwardly  from  this  anchorage  you  come 
to  Wasp  Bay,  at  the  head  of  the  harbor.  This  is  a  small  basin, 
completely  landlocked,  into  which  you  can  go  with  four  fathoms, 
arid  find  anchorage  in  from  ten  to  three,  hard  clay  bottom.  A 
ship  might  lie  here  with  her  best  bower  ahead  all  the  year  round 
without  risk.  To  the  westward,  at  the  head  of  Wasp  Bay,  is  a 
small  stream  of  excellent  water,  easily  procured. 

Some  seal  of  the  fur  and  hair  species  are  still  to  be  found  on 
Kerguelen's  Island,  and  sea  elephants  abound.  The  feathered 
tribes  are  discovered  in  great  numbers.  Penguins  are  very  plenty, 
and  of  these  there  are  four  different  kinds.  The  royal  penguin, 
so  called  from  its  size  and  beautiful  plumage,  is  the  largest.  The 
upper  part  of  the  body  is  usually  gray,  sometimes  of  a  lilach  tint ; 
the  under  portion  of  the  purest  white  imaginable.  The  head  is 
of  a  glossy  and  most  brilliant  black,  the  feet  also.  The  chief 
beauty  of  the  plumage,  however,  consists  in  two  broad  stripes  of 
a  gold  color,  which  pass  along  from  the  head  to  the  breast.  The 
bill  is  long,  and  either  pink  or  bright  scarlet.  These  birds  walk 
erect,  with  a  stately  carriage.  They  carry  their  heads  high 
.vith  their  wings  drooping  like  two  arms,  and,  as  their  tails  pro- 
ject from  their  body  in  a  line  with  the  legs,  the  resemblance  to  a 
human  figure  is  very  striking,  and  would  be  apt  to  deceive  the 
spectator  at  a  casual  glance  or  in  the  gloom  of  the  evening.  The 
royal  penguins  which  we  meet  with  on  Kerguelen's  Land  were 
rather  larger  than  a  goose  The  o  her  kinds  are  the  maccaroni. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  123 

the  jackass,  and  the  rookery  penguin.     These  are  much  smaller, 
less  beautiful  in  plumage,  and  different  in  other  respects. 

Besides  the  penguin  many  other  birds  are  here  to  be  found, 
among  which  may  be  mentioned  seahens,  blue  peterels,  teal, 
clucks,  Port  Egrnont  hens,  shags.  Cape  pigeons,  the  nelly,  sea- 
swallows,  terns,  sea-gulls,  Mother  Carey's  chickens,  Mother  Ca- 
re v's  geese,  or  the  great  peterel,  and,  lastly,  the  albatross. 

The  great  peterel  is  as  large  as  the  common  albatross,  and  is 
carnivorous.  It  is  frequently  called  the  break-bones,  or  osprey 
peterel.  They  are  not  at  all  shy,  and,  when  properly  cooked,  are 
palatable  food.  In  flying  they  sometimes  sail  very  close  to  the 
surface  of  the  water,  with  the  wings  expanded,  without  appearing 
lo  move  them  in  the  least  degree,  or  make  any  exertion  with 
them  whatever. 

The  albatross  is  one  of  the  largest  and  fiercest  of  the  South 
Sea  birds.  It  is  of  the  gull  species,  and  takes  its  prey  on 
the  wing,  never  coming  on  land  except  for  the  purpose  of  breed- 
ing. Between  this  bird  and  the  penguin  the  most  singular  friend- 
ship exists.  Their  nests  are  constructed  with  great  uniformity 
upon  a  plan  concerted  between  the  two  species — that  of  the  alla- 
tross  being  placed  in  the  centre  of  a  little  square  formed  by  the 
nests  of  four  penguins.  Navigators  have  agreed  in  calling  an 
assemblage  of  such  encampments  a  rookery.  These  rookeries 
have  been  often  described,  but,  as  my  readers  may  not  all  have 
seen  these  descriptions,  and  as  I  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to 
speak  of  the  penguin  and  albatross,  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  saj 
something  here  of  their  mode  of  building  and  living. 

When  the  season  for  incubation  arrives,  the  birds  assemble  in 
vast  numbers,  and  for  some  days  appear  to  be  deliberating  upon 
the  proper  course  to  be  pursued.  At  length  they  proceed  to 
action.  A  level  piece  of  ground  is  selected,  of  suitable  extent, 
usually  comprising  three  or  four  acres,  and  situated  as  near  the 
sea  as  possible,  being  still  beyond  its  reach.  The  spot  is  chosen 
with  reference  to  its  evenness  of  surface,  and  that  is  preferred 
which  is  the  least  encumbered  with  stones.  This  matter  being 
arranged,  the  birds  proceed,  with  one  accord,  and  actuated  appa- 
rently by  one  mind,  to  trace  out,  with  mathematical  accuracy, 
either  a  square  or  other  parallelogram,  as  may  best  suit  the  no- 


124  NARRATIVE  OF 

ture  oi'  the  ground,  and  of  just  sufficient  size  to  acccrmnod.it.? 
easily  all  the  birds  assembled,  and  no  more — in  this  particular 
seeming  determined  upon  preventing  the  access  of  future  strag« 
glers  who  have  not  participated  in  the  labor  of  the  encampment. 
One  side  of  the  place  thus  marked  out  run's  parallel  with  the 
water's  edge,  and  is  left  open  for  ingress  or  egress. 

Having  defined  the  limits  of  the  rookery,  the  colony  now  begin 
to  clear  it  of  every  species  of  rubbish,  picking  up  stone  by  stone, 
and  carrying  them  outside  of  the  lines,  and  close  by  them,  so  as 
to  form  a  wall  on  the  three  inland  sides.  Just  within  this  wall 
a  perfectly  level  and  smooth  walk  is  formed,  from  six  to  eight 
feet  wide,  and  extending  around  the  encampment — thus  serving 
the  purpose  of  a  general  promenade. 

The  next  process  is  to  partition  out  the  whole  area  into  small 
squares  exactly  equal  in  size.  This  is  done  by  forming  narrow 
paths,  very  smooth,  and  crossing  each  other  at  right  angles 
throughout  the  entire  extent  of  the  rookery.  At  each  intersec- 
tion of  these  paths  the  nest  of  an  albatross  is  constructed,  and  a 
penguin's  nest  in  the  centre  of  each  square — thus  every  penguin 
is  surrounded  by  four  albatrosses,  and  each  albatross  by  a  like 
number  of  penguins.  The  penguin's  nest  consists  of  a  hole  in  the 
earth,  very  shallow,  being  only  just  of  sufficient  depth  to  keep 
her  single  egg  from  rolling.  The  albatross  is  somewhat  less 
ermple  in  her  arrangements,  erecting  a  hillock  about  a  foot  high 
and  two  in  diameter.  This  is  made  of  earth,  seaweed,  and  shells. 
On  its  summit  she  builds  her  nest. 

The  birds  take  especial  care  never  to  leave  their  nests  unoccu- 
pied for  an  instant  during  the  period  of  incubation,  or,  indeed, 
until  the  young  progeny  are  sufficiently  strong  to  take  care  of 
themselves.  While  the  male  is  absent  at  sea  in  search  of  food, 
the  female  remains  on  duty,  and  it  is  only  upon  the  return  of  her 
partner  that  she  ventures  abroad.  The  eggs  are  never  left  un- 
covered at  all — while  one  bird  leaves  the  nest,  the  other  nestling 
in  by  its  side.  This  precaution  is  rendered  necessary  by  the 
thievish  propensities  prevalent  in  the  rookery,  the  inhabitants 
making  no  scruple  to  purloin  each  other's  eggs  at  every  good  op- 
portunity. 

Although  there  arc  some  rookeries  in  which  the  penguin  and 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  121 

albatross  arc  the  sole  population,  yet  in  most  of  them  a  variety 
of  oceanic  birds  are  to  be  met  with,  enjoying  all  the  privileges 
of  citizenship,  and  scattering  their  nests  here  and  there,  wherever 
they  can  find  room,  never  interfering,  however,  with  the 
stations  of  the  larger  species.  The  appearance  of  such  encamp- 
ments when  seen  from  a  distance,  is  exceedingly  singular.  The 
whole  atmosphere  just  above  the  settlement  is  darkened  with  tho 
immense  number  of  the  albatross  (mingled  with  the  smaller 
tribes)  which  are  continually  hovering  over  it,  either  going  to  the 
ocean  or  returning  home.  At  the  same  time  a  crowd  of  penguins 
are  to  be  observed,  some  passing  to  and  fro  in  the  narrow  alleys, 
and  some  marching  with  the  military  strut  so  peculiar  to  them, 
around  the  general  promenade-ground  which  encircles  the  rook- 
ery [n  short,  survey  it  as  we  will,  nothing  can  be  more  aston- 
ishing than  the  spirit  of  reflection  evinced  by  these  feathered 
beings,  and  nothing  surely  can  be  better  calculated  to  elicit 
reflection  in  every  well-regulated  human  intellect. 

On  the  morning  after  our  arrival  in  Christmas  Harbor  the  chief 
male,  Mr.  Patterson,  took  the  boats,  and  (although  it  was  some- 
what early  in  the  season)  went  in  search  of  seal,  leaving  the 
captain  and  a  young  relation  of  his  on  a  point  of  barren  land  t<r 
the  westward,  they  having  some  business,  w7hose  nature  I  could 
not  ascertain,  to  transact  in  the  interior  of  the  island.  Captain 
Guy  took  with  him  a  bottle,  in  which  was  a  sealed  letter,  and 
made  his  way  from  the  point  on  which  he  was  set  on  shore  to- 
wards one  of  the  highest  peaks  in  the  place.  It  is  probable  that 
his  design  was  to  leave  the  letter  on  that  height  for  some  vessel 
which  he  expected  to  come  after  him.  As  soon  as  we  lost 
sight  of  him  we  proceeded  (Peters  and  myself  being  in  the  mate's 
boat)  on  our  cruise  around  the  coast,  looking  for  seal.  In  this 
business  we  were  occupied  about  three  weeks,  examining  with 
great  care  every  nook  and  corner,  not  only  of  Kerguelen's  Land, 
but  of  the  several  small  islands  in  the  vicinity.  Our  labors,  how- 
ever, were  not  crowned  with  any  important  success.  We  saw  a 
great  many  fur  seal,  but  they  were  exceedingly  shy,  and  with  the 
greatest  exertions,  we  could  only  procure  three  hundred  and  fifty 
nkins  in  all.  Sea  elephants  were  abundant,  especially  on  the 
western  coast  of  the  mainland,  but  of  these  we  killed  only  twenty, 


126  .  NARRATIVE  UP 

and  this  with  great  difficulty.  On  the  smaller  islands  \ve  dt9» 
covered  a  good  many  of  the  hair  seal,  but  did  not  molest  them. 
We  returned  to  the  schooner  on  the  eleventh,  where  we  found 
Captain  Guy  and  his  nephew,  who  gave  a  very  bad  account  01 
the  interior,  representing  it  as  one  of  the  most  dreary  and  utterly 
Darren  countries  in  the  world.  They  had  remained  two  nighls 
on  the  island,  owing  to  some  misunderstanding,  on  the  part  of  the 
second  mate,  in  regard  to  the  sending  a  jolly  boat  from  the  scJ>oon« 
er  to  take  them  off. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ON  the  twelfth  we  made  sail  from  Christmas  Harbor,  retracing 
our  way  to  the  westward,  and  leaving  Marion's  Island,  one  of 
Crozet's  group,  on  the  larboard.  We  afterward  passed  Prince 
Edward's  Island,  leaving  it  also  on  our  left ;  then,  steering  more 
to  the  northward,  made,  in  fifteen  days,  the  islands  of  Tristan 
d'Acunha,  in  latitude  37°  8'  S.,  longitude  12°  8'  W. 

This  group,  now  so  well  known,  and  which  consists  of  three 
Circular  islands,  was  first  discovered  by  the  Portuguese,  and  was 
risked  afterward  by  the  Dutch  in  1643,  and  by  the  French  in 
17G7.  The  three  islands  together  form  a  triangle,  and  are  dis- 
tant from  each  other  about  ten  miles,  there  being  fine  open 
passages  between.  The  land  in  all  of  them  is  very  high,  espe- 
cially in  Tristan  d'Acunha,  properly  so  called.  This  is  the 
largest  of  the  group,  being  fifteen  miles  in  circumference,  and  so 
elevated  that  it  can  be  seen  in  clear  weather  at  the  distance  of 
eighty  or  ninety  miles.  A  part  of  the  land  towards  the  north 
rises  more  than  a  thousand  feet  perpendicularly  from  the  sea.  A 
tableland  at  this  height  extends  back  nearly  to  the  centre  of  the 
island,  and  from  this  tableland  arises  a  lofty  cone  like  that  of 
Teneriffe.  The  lower  half  of  this  cone  is  clothed  with  trees  of 
good  size,  but  the  upper  region  is  barren  rock,  usually  hidden 
among  the  clouds,  and  covered  with  snow  during  the  greater  part 
of  the  year.  There  are  no  shoals  or  other  dangers  about  the 
island,  the  shores  being  remarkably  bold  and  the  water  deep 


A.  GORDON  P7M.  127 

On  the  northwestern  coast  is  a  bay,  with  a  beacli  of  black  sand, 
where  a  landing  with  boats  can  be  easily  effected,  providtd  ther« 
be  a  southerly  wind.  Plenty  of  excellent  water  may  here  be 
readily  procured  ;  also  c"od,  and  other  fish,  may  be  taken  with 
hook  and  line. 

The  next  island  in  point  of  size,  and  the  most  westwardly  ot 
the  group,  is  that  called  the  Inaccessible.  Its  precise  situation  is 
37°  17'  S.  latitude,  longitude  12°  24'  W.  It  is  seven  or  eight 
miles  in  circumference,  and  on  all  sides  presents  a  forbidding  and 
precipitous  aspect.  Its  top  is  perfectly  flat,  and  the  whole  region 
is  sterile,  nothing  growing  upon  it  except  a  few  stunted  shr-ubs. 

Nightingale  Island,  the  smallest  and  most  southerly,  is  in  lati- 
tude 373  20'  S.,  longitude  12°  12'  W.  Off  its  southern  extrem- 
ity is  a  high  ledge  of  rocky  islets  ;  a  few  also  of  a  similar  appear- 
ance are  seen  to  the  northeast.  The  ground  is  irregular  and 
sterile,  and  a  deep  valley  partially  separates  it. 

The  shores  of  these  islands  abound,  in  the  proper  season,  with 
sea  lions,  sea  elephants,  the  hair  and  fur  seal,  together  with  a 
great  variety  of  oceanic  birds.  Whales  are  also  plenty  in  their 
vicinity.  Owing  to  the  ease  with  which  these  various  animals 
were  here  formerly  taken,  the  group  has  been  much  visited 
since  its  discovery.  The  Elutch  and  French  frequented  it  at  a 
very  early  period.  In  1790,  Captain  Patten,  of  the  ship  Indus- 
try, of  Philadelphia,  made  Tristan  d'Acunha,  where  he  remained 
seven  months  (from  August,  1790,  to  April,  1791)  for  the  pur- 
pose of  collecting  sealskins.  In  this  time  he  gathered  no  less 
than  five  thousand  six  hundred,  and  says  that  he  would  have  had 
no  difficulty  in  loading  a  large  ship  with  oil  in  three  weeks. 
Upon  his  arrival  he  found  no  quadrupeds,  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  wild  goats — the  island  now  abounds  with  all  our  most  val- 
uable domestic  animals,  which  have  been  introduced  by  subse 
quent  navigators. 

I  believe  it  was  not  long  after  Captain  Patten's  visit  that 
Captain  Colquhoun,  of  the  American  brig  Betsey,  touched  at  the 
largest  of  the  islands  for  the  purpose  of  refreshment.  He  planted 
onions,  potatoes,  cabbages,  and  a  great  many  other  vegetables,  an 
abundance  of  all  which  are  now  to  be  met  with. 

In  1811,  a  Captain  Hay  wood,  in  the   Nereus,  visited  Tristan 


128  NARRATIVE  OF 

He  found  there  three  Americans,  who  were  residing  upon  the 
islands  to  prepare  sealskins  and  oil.  One  of  these  men  wa$ 
named  Jonathan  Lambert,  and  he  called  himself  the  sovereign  of 
the  country.  He  had  cleared  and  cultivated  about  sixty  acres 
of  land,  and  turned  his  attention  to  raising  the  coffee-plant  and 
sugar-cane,  with  which  he  had  been  furnished  by  the  American 
minister  at  Rio  Janeiro.  This  settlement,  however,  was  finally 
abandoned,  and  in  1817  the  islands  were  taken  possession  of  by 
the  British  government,  who  sent  a  detachment  for  that  purpose 
from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  They  did  not.  however,  retain 
them  long ;  but,  upon  the  evacuation  of  the  country  as  a  British 
possession,  two  or  three  English  families  took  up  their  residence 
there  independently  of  the  government.  On  the  twenty-fifth  of 
March,  1824,  the  Berwick,  Captain  Jeffrey,  from  London  to  Van 
Diemen's  Land,  arrived  at  the  place,  where  they  found  an  Eng- 
lishman of  the  name  of  Glass,  formerly  a  corporal  in  the  British 
artillery.  He  claimed  to  be  supreme  governor  of  the  islands,  and 
had  under  his  control  twenty-one  men  and  three  women.  He 
gave  a  very  favorable  account  of  the  salubrity  of  the  climate  and 
of  the  productiveness  of  the  soil.  The  population  occupied  them- 
selves chiefly  in  collecting  sealskins  and  sea-elephant  oil,  with 
which  they  traded  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Glass  owning  a 
small  schooner.  At  the  period  of  our  arrival  the  governor  was 
still  a  resident,  but  his  little  community  had  multiplied,  there 
being  fifty-six  persons  upon  Tristan;  besides  a  smaller  settlement 
of  seven  on  Nightingale  Island.  We  had  no  difficulty  in  pro- 
curing almost  every  kind  of  refreshment  which  we  required — 
•sheep,  hogs,  bullocks,  rabbits,  poultry,  goats,  fish  in  great  variety, 
and  vegetables  were  abundant.  Having  come  to  anchor  close  in 
with  the  large  island,  in  eighteen  fathoms,  we  took  all  we  wanted 
ca  board  very  conveniently.  Captain  Guy  also  purchased  of 
Glass  five  hundred  sealskins  and  some  ivory.  We  remained 
here  a  week,  during  which  the  prevailing  winds  were  from  the 
northward  and  westward,  and  the  weather  somewhat  hazy.  On 
the  fifth  of  November  we  made  sail  to  the  southward  and  west- 
ward, with  the  intention  of  having  a  thorough  search  for  a  group 
of  islands  called  the  Auroras,  respecting  whose  existence  a  great 
diversity  of  opinion  has  existed. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  129 

These  islands  are  said  to  have  been  discovered  as  early  as 
17''2.  by  the  commander  of  the  ship  Aurora.  In  1700,  Captain 
Manuel  de  Oyarvido,  in  the  ship  Princess,  belonging  to  the  Royal 
Philippine  Company,  sailed,  a=  he  asserts,  directly  among  them. 
In  171)4,  the  Spanish  corvette  Atrevida  went  with  the  determina- 
tion of  ascertaining  their  precise  situation,  and,  in  a  paper  pub- 
lished by  the  Royal  Hydrographical  Society  of  Madrid  in  the 
year  1809,  the  following  language  is  used  respecting  this  expedi- 
tion. "  The  corvette  Atrevida  practised,  in  their  immediate 
vicinity,  from  the  twenty-first  to  the  twenty-seventh  of  Jan- 
uary, all  the  necessary  observations,  and  measured  by  chronom- 
eters the  difference  of  longitude  between  these  islands  and  the 
port  of  Soledad  in  the  Malninas.  The  islands  are  three ;  they 
are  very  nearly  in  the  same  meridian ;  the  centre  one  is  rather 
low,  and  the  other  two  may  be  seen  at  nine  leagues  distance." 
The  observations  made  on  board  the  Atrevida  give  the  following 
results  as  the  precise  situation  of  each  island.  The  most  north- 
ern is  in  latitude  52°  37'  24"  S.,  longitude  47°  43'  15"  W. ;  the 
middle  one  in, latitude  53°  2'  40"  S.,  longitude  47°  55'  15"  W.; 
and  the  most  southern  in  latitude  53°  15'  22"  S.,  longitude  47° 
57'  15"  W. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  January,  1820,  Captain  James  Wed- 
del,  of  the  British  navy,  sailed  from  Staten  Land  also  in  search 
of  the  Auroras.  He  reports  that,  having  made  the  most  diligent 
search  and  passed  not  only  immediately  over  the  spots  indicated 
by  the  commander  of  the  Atrevida,  but  in  every  direction  through- 
out the  vicinity  of  these  spot*,  he  could  discover  no  indication  of 
land.  These  conflicting  statements  have  induced  other  navigators 
to  look  out  for  the  islands ;  and,  strange  to  say,  while  some  have 
sailed  through  every  inch  of  sea  where  they  are  supposed  to  lie 
without  finding  them,  there  have  been  not  a  few  who  declare 
positively  tha*  they  have  seen  them  ;  and  even  been  close  in  with 
their  shores.  It  was  Captain  Guy's  intention  to  make  every  ex- 
ertion within  his  power  to  settle  the  question  so  oddly  in  dispute.* 

*  Among  the  vessels  which  at  various  times  have  professed  to  m^et  ^vith 
the  Auroras  may  be  mentioned  the  ship  San  Miguel,  in  1769  ;  the  ship  Au- 
rora, in  1774 ;  the  brigPearl,  in  1779  :  and  the  ship  Dolores,  in  1790.  They 
all  agree  in  giving  the  ire  an  latitude  fifty- three  degrees  south. 


130  NARRATIVE  OF 

We  kept  on  our  course,  between  the  south  and  west,  with 
variable  wea  her,  until  the  twentieth  of  the  month,  when  we 
found  ourselves  on  the  debated  ground,  being  in  latitude  53°  15' 
S.,  longitude  47°  58'  W. — that  is  to  say,  very  nearly  upon  the 
spot  indicated  as  the  situation  of  the  most  southern  of  the  group 
Not  perceiving  any  sign  of  land,  we  continued  to  the  westward 
n  the  parallel  of  fifty-three  degrees  south,  as  far  as  the  meridian 
"f  fifty  degrees  west.  We  then  stood  to  the  north  as  far  as  the 
parallel- of  fifty-two  degrees  south,  when  we  turned  to  the  east 
ward,  and  kept  our  parallel  by  double  altitudes,  morning  and 
evening,  and  meridian  altitudes  of  the  planets  and  moon.  Having 
thus  gone  eastwardly  to  the  meridian  of  the  western  coast  of 
Georgia,  we  kept  that  meridian  until  we  were  in  the  latitude 
from  which  we  set  out.  We  then  took  diagonal  courses  through- 
out the  entire  extent  of  sea  circumscribed,  keeping  a  lookout 
constantly  at  the  masthead,  and  repeating  our  examination  with 
the  greatest  care  for  a  period  of  three  weeks,  during  which  the 
weather  was  remarkably  pleasant  and  fair,  with  no  haze  what- 
soever. Of  course  we  were  thoroughly  satisfied  that,  whatever 
islands  might  have  existed  in  this  vicinity  at  any  former  period, 
no  vestige  of  them  remained  at  the  present  day.  Since  my 
return  home  I  find  that  the  same  ground  was  traced  over,  with 
equal  care,  in  1822,  by  Captain  Johnson,  of  the  American 
schooner  Henry,  and  by  Captain  Morrell,  in  the  American 
schooner  Wasp — in  both  cases  with  the  same  result  as  in  our  own. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

IT  had  been  Captain  Guy's  original  intention,  after  satisfying 
Iiimself  about  the  Auroras,  to  proceed  through  the  Strait  of  .Ma- 
gellan, and  up  along  the  western  coast  of  Patagonia  ;  but  infor- 
mation received  aj;  Tristan  d'Acunha  induced  him  to  steer  to 
the  southward,  in  the  hope  of  falling  in  with  some  small  islands 
said  to  lie  about  the  parallel  of  60°  S.,  longitude  41°  20'  W. 
In  the  event  of  his  not  discovering  these  lands,  he  designed, 


A.  UORDON-  PYM.  131 

should  the  season  prove  favorable,  to  push  on  towards  the  pole- 
Accordingly,  on  the  twelfth  of  December,  we  made  sail  in  thai 
direction.  On  the  eighteenth  we  found  ourselves  about  the  sta 
tion  indicated  by  Glass,  and  cruised  for  three  days  in  that  neigh 
borhood  without  finding  any  traces  of  the  islands  he  had  men- 
tioned. On  the  twenty-first,  the  weather  being  unusually 
pleasant,  we  again  made  sail  lo  the  southward,  with  the  resolu- 
tion of  penetrating  in  that  course  as  far  as  possible.  Before 
entering  upon  this  portion  of  my  narrative,  it  may  be  as  well, 
for  the  information  of  those  readers  who  have  paid  little  atten- 
tion to  the  progress  of  discovery  in  these  regions,  to  give  some 
brief  account  of  the  very  few  attempts  at  reaching  the  southern 
pole  which  have  hitherto  been  made. 

That  of  Captain  Cook  was  the  first  of  which  we  have  any 
distinct  account.  In  1772,  he  sailed  to  the  south  in  the  Resolution, 
accompanied  by  Lieutenant  Furneaux.  in  the  Adventure.  In 
December  he  found  himself  as  far  as  the  fifty-eighth  parallel  of 
south  latitude,  and  in  longitude  26°  57'  E.  Here  he  met  with 
narrow  fields  of  ice,  about  eight  or  ten  inches  thick,  and  run- 
ning northwest  and  southeast.  This  ice  was  in  large  cakes,  and 
usually  it  was  packed  so  closely  that  the  vessels  had  great  diffi- 
culty in  forcing  a  passage.  At  this  period  Captain  Cook  sup- 
posed, from  the  vast  number  of  birds  to  be  seen,  and  from  other 
indications,  that  he  was  in  the  near  vicinity  of  land.  He  kept 
on  to  the  southward,  the  weather  being  exceedingly  cold,  until 
he  reached  the  sixty-fourth  parallel,  in  longitude  38°  14'  E. 
Here  he  had  mild  weather,  with  gentle  breezes,  for  five  days, 
the  thermometer  being  at  thirty -six.  In  January,  1773,  the 
vessels  crossed  the  Antarctic  circle,  but  did  not  succeed  in  pene- 
trating much  farther;  for,  upon  reaching  latitude  67°  15',  they 
found  all  farther  progress  impeded  by  an  immense  body  of  ice, 
extending  all  along  the  southern  horizon  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach.  This  ice  was  of  every  variety — and  some  large  floes  of 
it,  miles  in  extent,  formed  a  compact  mass,  rising  eighteen  or 
*wenty  feet  above  the  water.  It  being  late  in  the  season,  and 
no  hope  entertained  of  rounding  these  obstructions,  Captaio 
Cook  now  reluctantly  turned  to  the  northward. 

In  the   November  following  he  renewed  his  search  in    the 


132  NARRATIVE  OF 

Antarctic.  In  latitude  59°  40'  he  met  with  a  strong  current 
setting  to  the  south  ,vard.  In  December,  when  the  vessels  were 
in  latitude  67°  31*,  longitude  142°  54'  W.,  the  cold  was  exces- 
sive, with  heavy  gales  and  fog.  Here  also  birds  were  abundant ; 
the  albatross,  tl  e  penguin,  and  the  peterel  especially.  In  latitude 
70°  23'  some  large  islands  of  ice  were  encountered,  and  shortly 
afterward,  the  clouds  to  the  southward  were  observed  to  be  of  a 
snowy  whiteness,  indicating  the  vicinity  of  field  ice.  In  latitude 
71°  10',  longitude  106°  54'  "W".,  the  navigators  were  stopped,  as 
before,  by  an  immense  frozen  expanse,  which  filled  the  whole 
area  of  the  southern  horizon.  The  northern  edge  of  this  expanse 
was  ragged  and  broken,  so  firmly  wedged  together  as  to  be 
utterly  impassable,  and  extending  about  a  mile  to  the  south- 
ward. Behind  it  the  frozen  surface  was  comparatively  smooth 
for  some  distance,  until  terminated  in  the  extreme  back-ground 
by  gigantic  ranges  of  ice  mountains,  the  one  towering  above  the 
other.  Captain  Cook  concluded  that  this  vast  field  reached  the 
southern  pole  or  was  joined  to  a  continent.  Mr.  J.  N.  Reynolds, 
whose  great  exertions  and  perseverance  have  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  set  on  foot  a  national  expedition,  partly  for  the 
purpose  of  exploring  these  regions,  thus  speaks  of  the  attempt 
of  the  Resolution  :  "  We  are  not  surprised  that  Captain  Cook 
was  unable  to  go  beyond  71°  10',  but  we  are  astonished  that  he 
did  attain  that  point  on  the  meridian  of  106°  54'  west  lon- 
gitude. Palmer's  Land  lies  south  of  the  Shetland,  latitude 
sixty-four  degrees,  and  tends  to  the  southward  and  westward 
farther  than  any  navigator  has  yet  penetrated.  Cook  was  stand 
ing  for  this  land  when  his  progress  was  arrested  by  the  ice  ; 
which,  we  apprehend,  must  always  be  the  case  in  that  point,  and 
so  early  in  the  season  as  the  sixth  of  January — and  we  should 
not  be  surprised  if  a  portion  of  the  icy  mountains  described  was 
attached  to  the  main  body  of  Palmer's  Land,  or  to  some  other 
portions  of  land  lying  farther  to  the  southward  and  westward." 
In  1803,  Captains  Kreutzenstern  and  Lisiausky  were  dis- 
patched by  Alexander  of  Russia  for  the  purpose  of  circumnavi- 
gating the  globe.  In  endeavoring  to  get  south,  they  made  no 
farther  than  59°  58',  in  longitude  70°  15'  W.  They  here  met 
with  strong  currents  setting  eastwardly.  Whales  were  abuo 


A.  GORDON  PVM.  133 

dant,  but  they  saw  no  ice.  In  regard  to  this  voyage,  Mr.  Rey- 
nolds observes  that,  if  Kreutzenstern  had  arrived  where  he  did 
earlier  in  the  season,  he  must  have  encountered  ice — it  was 
March  when  he  reached  the  latitude  specified.  The  winds  pre- 
vailing, as  th<?y  do,  from  the  southward  and  westward,  had 
carried  the  floes,  aided  by  currents,  into  that  icy  region  bounded 
on  the  north  by  Georgia,  east  by  Sandwich  Land  and  the  South 
Orkneys,  and  west  by  the  South  Shetland  Islands. 

In  1822,  Captain  James  Weddell,  of  the  British  navy,  with 
two  very  small  vessels,  penetrated  farther  to  the  south  than  any 
previous  navigator,  and  this  too,  without  encountering  extraor- 
dinary difficulties.  He  states  that  although  he  was  frequently 
hemmed  in  by  ice  before  reaching  the  seventy-second  parallel, 
yet,  upon  attaining  it,  not  a  particle  was  to  be  discovered,  and 
that,  upon  arriving  at  the  latitude  of  74°  15',  no  fields,  and  only 
three  islands  of  ice  were  visible.  It  is  somewhat  remarkable 
that,  although  vast  flocks  of  birds  were  seen,  and  other  usual 
indications  of  land,  and  although,  south  of  the  Shetlands,  un- 
known coasts  were  observed  from  the  masthead  tending  south- 
wardly, Weddell  discourages  the  idea  of  land  existing  in  the 
polar  regions  of  the  south. 

On  the  llth  of  January,  1823,  Captain  Benjamin  Morrell,  ot 
the  American  schooner  Wasp,  sailed  from  Kerguelen's  Land 
with  a  view  of  penetrating  as  far  south  as  possible.  On  the  first 
of  February  he  found  himself  in  latitude  64°  52'  S.,  longitude 
118°  27'  E.  The  following  passage  is  extracted  from  his  jour- 
nal of  that  date  :  "  The  wind  soon  freshened  to  an  eleven-knot 
breeze,  and  we  embraced  this  opportunity  of  making  to  the 
west;  being  however  convinced  that  the  farther  we  went  south 
beyond  latitude  sixty-four  degrees,  the  less  ice  was  to  be  appre- 
hended, we  steerecl  a  little  to  the  southward,  until  we  crossed 
the  Antarctic  circle,  and  were  in  latitude  69°  15'  E.  In  this 
latitude  there  was  no  field  ice,  and  very  few  ice  islands  in  sight." 

Under  the  date  of  March  fourteenth  I  find  also  this  entry : 
"  The  sea  was  now  entirely  free  of  field  ice,  and  there  were  not 
more  than  a  dozen  ice  islands  in  sight.  At  the  same  time  the 
temperature  of  the  air  and  water  was  at  least  thirteen  degrees 
higher  (more  mild)  than  we  had  ever  found  it  between  the'pai> 


134  NARRATIVE  OF 

allels  of  sixty  and  sixty-two  south.  We  were  now  in  latitude 
70°  14'  S.,  and  the  temperature  of  the  air  was  forty-seven,  and 
that  of  the  water  forty-four.  In  this  situation  I  found  the  vari- 
ation to  be  14°  27'  easterly,  per  azimuth.  ...  I  have  several 
times  passed  within  the  Antarctic  circle,  on  different  meridians, 
and  have  uniformly  found  the  temperature,  both  of  the  air  and 
the  water,  to  become  more  and  more  mild  the  farther  I  advanced 
beyond  the  sixty-fifth  degree  of  south  latitude,  and  that  the  vari- 
ation decreases  in  the  same  proportion.  While  north  of  this 
latitude,  say  between  sixty  and  sixty-five  south,  we  frequently 
had  great  difficulty  in  finding  a  passage  for  the  vessel  between 
the  immense  and  almost  innumerable  ice  islands,  some  of  which 
were  from  one  to  two  miles  in  circumference,  and  more  than  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  water." 

Being  nearly  destitute  of  fuel  and  water,  and  without  proper 
instruments,  it  being  also  late  in  the  season,  Captain  Morrell 
was  now  obliged  to  put  back,  without  attempting  any  farther  pro- 
gress to  the  westward,  although  an  entirely  open  sea  lay  before 
him.  He  expresses  the  opinion  that,  had  not  these  overruling 
considerations  obliged  him  to  retreat,  he  could  have  penetrated, 
if  not  to  the  pole  itself,  at  least  to  the  eighty-fifth  parallel.  I 
have  given  his  ideas  respecting  these  matters  somewhat  at  length, 
that  the  reader  may  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  how  far  they 
were  borne  out  by  my  own  subsequent  experience. 

In  1831,  Captain  Briscoe,  in  the  employ  of  the  Messieurs 
Enderby,  whale-ship  owners  of  London,  sailed  in  the  brig  Lively 
for  the  South  Seas,  accompanied  by  the  cutter  Tula.  On  the 
twenty-eighth  of  February,  being  in  latitude  66°  30'  S.,  longi- 
tude 47°  13'  E.,  he  descried  land,  and  "  clearly  discovered 
through  the  snow  the  black  peaks  of  a  range  of  mountains  run- 
ning E.  S.  E."  He  remained  in  this  neighborhood  during  the 
whole  of  the  following  month,  but  was  unable  to  approach  the 
coast  nearer  than  within  ten  leagues,  owing  to  the  boisterous 
state  of  the  weather.  Finding  it  impossible  to  make  farther 
discovery  during  this  season,  he  returned  northward  to  winter 
in  Van  Diemen's  Land. 

In  the  beginning  of  1832  he  again  proceeded  southwardly, 
and  on  the  fourth  of  February  land  was  seen  to  the  southeast  in 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  135 

latitude  67°  15',  longitude  69°  29'  W.  This  was  soon  found  to 
be  an  island  near  the  headland  of  the  country  lit  had  first  dis- 
covered. On  the  twenty-first  of  the  month  he  succeeded  in 
landing  on  the  latter,  and  took  possession  of  it  in  the  name  of 
William  IV.,  calling  it  Adelaide's  Island,  in  honor  of  the  English 
queen.  These  particulars  being  made  known  to  the  Royal  Geo- 
graphical Society  of  London,  the  conclusion  was  drawn  by  thai 
body  "that  there  is  a  continuous  tract  of  land  extending  from  47° 
30'  E.  to  G9°  29'  W.  longitude,  running  the  parallel  of  from  sixty- 
six  to  sixty-seven  degrees  south  latitude."  In  respect  to  this 
conclusion  Mr.  Reynolds  observes,  "  In  the  correctness  of  it  we 
by  no  means  concur ;  nor  do  the  discoveries  of  Briscoe  warrant 
any  such  inference.  It  was  within  these  limits  that  Weddell 
proceeded  south  on  a  meridian  to  the  east  of  Georgia,  Sandwich 
Land,  and  the  South  Orkney  and  Shetland  Islands."  My  own 
experience  will  be  found  to  testify  most  directly  to  the  falsity  of 
the  conclusion  arrived  at  by  the  society. 

These  are  the  principal  attempts  which  have  been  made  at 
penetrating  to  a  high  southern  latitude,  and  it  will  now  be  seen 
I  hat  there  remained,  previous  to  the  voyage  of  the  Jane,  nearly 
three  hundred  degrees  of  longitude  in  which  the  Antarctic  circle 
hail  not  been  crossed  at  all.  Of  course  a  wide  field  lay  before 
us  for  discovery,  and  it  was  with  feelings  of  most  intense  inter- 
est that  I  heard  Captain  Guy  express  his  resolution  of  pushing 
boldly  fo  the  southward. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

WE  kept  our  course  southwardly  for  four  days  after  giving  up 
the  search  for  Glass's  Islands,  without  meeting  with  any  ice  at 
all.  On  the  twenty-sixth,  at  noon,  we  were  in  latitude  63°  23' 
S.,  longitude  41°  25'  W.  We  now  saw  several  large  ice  islands, 
find  a  floe  of  field  ice,  not,  however,  of  any  great  extent.  The 
winds  generally  blew  from  the  southeast,  or  the  northeast,  but 
were  very  light.  Whenever  we  had  a  westerly  wind,  which 
was  seldom,  it  was  invariably  attended  with  a  rain  squall.  Every 


136  NARRATIVE  OF 

day  we  had  more  or  less  snow.  The  thermometer,  on  the 
twenty-seventh,  stood  at  thirty-five. 

January  1,  1828.  This  day  we  found  ourselves  completely 
nemmed  in  by  the  ice,  and  our  prospects  looked  cheerless  indeed. 
A  strong  gale  blew,  during  the  whole  forenoon,  from  the  north- 
east, and  drove  large  cakes  of  the  drift  against  the  rudder  and 
counter  with  such  violence  that  we  all  trembled  for  the  conse- 
quences. Towards  evening,  the  gale  still  blowing  with  fury,  a 
large  field  in  front  separated,  and  we  were  enabled,  by  carrying 
a  press  of  sail,  to  force  a  passage  through  the  smaller  flakes  into 
some  open  water  beyond.  As  we  approached  this  space  we 
took  in  sail  by  degrees,  and  having  at  length  got  clear,  lay  to 
under  a  single  reefed  foresail. 

January  2.  We  had  now  tolerably  pleasant  weather.  At  noon 
we  found  ourselves  in  latitude  69°  10'  S.,  longitude  42°  20'  W., 
having  crossed  the  Antarctic  circle.  Very  little  ice  was  to  be 
seen  to  the  southward,  although  large  fields  of  it  lay  behind  us. 
This  day  we  rigged  some  sounding  gear,  using  a  large  iron  pot 
capable  of  holding  twenty  gallons,  and  a  line  of  two  hundred 
fathoms.  We  found  the  current  setting  to  the  north,  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  per  hour.  The  temperature  of  the  air  was 
now  about  thirty-three.  Here  we  found  the  variation  to  be  14° 
28'  easterly,  per  azimuth. 

January  5.  We  had  still  held  on  to  the  southward  without  any 
very  great  impediments.  On  this  morning,  however,  being  in 
latitude  73°  15'  E.,  longitude  42°  10'  W.,  we  were  again 
Drought  to  a  stand  by  an  immense  expanse  of  firm  ice.  We 
saw,  nevertheless,  much  open  water  to  the  southward,  and  felt 
no  doubt  of  being  able  to  reach  it  eventually.  Standing  to  the 
eastward  along  the  edge  of  the  floe,  we  at  length  came  to  a  pas- 
sags  of  about  a  mile  in  width,  through  which  we  warped  our 
way  by  sundown.  The  sea  in  which  we  now  were  was  thickly 
covered  with  ice  islands,  but  had  no  field  ice,  and  we  pushed  on 
boldly  as  before.  The  cold  did  not  seem  to  increase,  although 
we  had  snow  very  frequently,  and  now  and  then  hail  squalls  01 
great  violence.  Immense  flocks  of  the  albatross  flew  over  the 
schooner  this  day,  going  from  southeast  to  northwest. 

January  7.     The  sea  still  remained  pretty  well  open,  so  that 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  137 

we  had  no  difficulty  in  holding  on  our  course.  To  the  westward 
we  saw  joine  icebergs  of  incredible  size,  and  in  the  afternoon 
passed  very  near  one  whose  summit  could  not  have  been  less 
than  four  hundred  fathoms  from  the  surface  of  the  ocean.  Its 
girth  was  probably,  at  the  base,  three  quarters  of  a  league,  and 
several  streams  of  water  were  running  from  crevices  in  its  sides. 
We  remained  in  sight  of  this  island  two  days,  and  then  only  lost 
it  in  a  fog. 

January  10.  Early  this  morning  we  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  a  man  overboard.  He  was  an  American,  named  Peter 
Vreclenburgh,  a  native  of  New  York,  and  was  one  of  the  most  val- 
uable hands  on  board  the  schooner.  In  going  over  the  bows  his 
foot  slipped,  and  he  fell  between  two  cakes  of  ice,  never  rising 
again.  At  noon  of  this  day  we  were  in  latitude  78°  30',  longi- 
tude 40°  15'  W.  The  cold  was  now  excessive,  and  we  had  hail 
squalls  continually  from  the  northward  and  eastward.  In  this 
direction  also  we  saw  several  more  immense  icebergs,  and  the 
whole  horizon  to  the  eastward  appeared  to  be  blocked  up  with 
field  ice,  rising  in  tiers,  one  mass  above  the  other.  Some  drift- 
wood floated  by  during  the  evening,  and  a  great  quantity  of  birds 
flew  over,  among  which  were  Nellies,  peterels,  albatrosses,  and  a 
large  bird  of  a  brilliant  blue  plumage.  The  variation  here,  per 
azimuth,  was  less  than  it  had  been  previously  to  our  passing  the 
Antarctic  circle. 

January  12.  Our  passage  to  the  south  again  looked  doubtful, 
as  nothing  was  to  be  seen  in  the  direction  of  the  pole  but  one  ap- 
parently limitless  floe,  backed  by  absolute  mountains  of  ragged 
ice,  one  precipice  of  which  arose  frowningly  above  the  other. 
We  stood  to  the  westward  until  the. fourteenth,  in  the  hope  of 
finding  an  entrance. 

January  14.  This  morning  we  reached  the  western  extremity 
of  the  field  which  had  impeded  us,  and,  weathering  it,  came  to  an 
open  sea,  without  a  particle  of  ice.  Upon  sounding  with  two 
hundred  fathoms,  we  here  found  a  current  setting  southwardly  at 
the  rate  of  half  a  mile  per  hour.  The  temperature  of  the  air 
was  forty-seven,  that  of  the  water  thirty-four.  We  now  sailed 
to  the  southward  without  meeting  any  interruption  of  moment 
until  the  sixteenth,  when,  at  noon,  we  were  in  latitude  81°  21' 


138  NARRATIVE  OF 

long.  42°  W.  We  here  again  sounded,  and  found  a  current  setting 
still  southwardly,  and  at  the  rate  of  three  quarters  of  a  mile  per 
hour.  The  variation  per  azimuth  had  diminished,  and  the  tem- 
perature of  the  air  was  mild  and  pleasant,  the  thermometer  being 
as  high  as>  fifty-one.  At  this  period  not  a  particle  of  ice  was  to 
be  discovered.  All  hands  on  board  now  felt,  certain  of  attaining 
the  pole. 

January  17.  This  day  was  full  of  incident.  Innumerable 
flights  of  birds  flew  over  us  from  the  southward,  and  several 
were  shot  from  the  deck  ;  one  of  them,  a  species  of  pelican, 
proved  to  be  excellent  eating.  About  midday  a  small  floe  of  ice 
was  seen  from  the  masthead  off  the  larboard  bow,  and  upon  it 
there  appeared  to  be  some  large  animal.  As  the  weather  was 
good  and  nearly  calm,  Captain  Guy  ordered  out  two  of  the  boats 
to  see  what  it  was.  Dirk  Peters  and  myself  accompanied  the 
mate  in  the  larger  boat.  Upon  coming  up  with  the  floe,  we  per- 
ceived that  it  was  in  the  possession  of  a  gigantic  creature  of  the 
race  of  the  Arctic  bear,  but  far  exceeding  in  size  the  largest  of 
these  animals.  Being  well  armed,  we  made  no  scruple  of  attack- 
ing it  at  once.  Several  shots  were  fired  in  quick  succession,  the 
most  of  which  took  effect,  apparently,  in  the  head  and  body. 
Nothing  discouraged,  however,  the  monster  threw  himself  from 
the  ice,  and  swam,  with  open  jaws,  to  the  boat  in  which  were 
Peters  and  myself.  Owing  to  the  confusion  which  ensued 
among  us  at  this  unexpected  turn  of  the  adventure,  no  person 
was  ready  immediately  with  a  second  shot,  and  the  bear  had 
actually  succeeded  in  getting  half  his  vast  bulk  across  our  gun- 
wale, and  seizing  one  of  the  men  by  the  small  of  his  back,  before 
any  efficient  means  were  taken  to  repel  him.  In  this  extremity 
nothing  but  the  promptness  and  agility  of  Peters  saved  us  from 
destruction.  Leaping  upon  the  back  of  the  huge  beast,  he 
plunged  the  blade  of  a  knife  behind  the  neck,  reaching  the  spinal 
marrow  at  a  blow.  The  brute  tumbled  into  the  sea  lifeless,  and 
without  a  struggle,  rolling  over  Peters  as  he  fell.  The  latter  soon 
recovered  himself,  and  a  rope  being  thrown  him,  he  secured  the 
carcass  before  entering  the  boat.  We  then  returned  in  triumph 
to  the  schooner,  towing  our  trophy  behind  us.  This  bear,  upon 
admeasurement,  proved  to  be  *ull  fifteen  feet  in  his  greatest 


A.  GORDON   PYM.  139 

length.  His  wool  was  perfectly  white,  and  very  coarse,  curling 
tightly.  The^cyes  were  of  a  blood  red,  and  larger  than  those  of 
the  Arctic  bear — the  snout  also  more  rounded,  rather  reoeinblin<» 

'  t> 

the  snout  of  the  bull-dog.  The  meat  was  tender,  but  excessively 
rank  and  fishy,  although  the  men  devoured  it  with  avidity,  and 
declared  it  excellent  eating. 

Scarcely  had  we  got  our  prize  alongside,  when  the  man  at  the 
masthead  gave  the  joyful  shout  of  "  land  on  the  starboard  bow  /" 
All  hands  were  now  upon  the  alert;  and,  a  breeze  springing  up 
very  opportunely  from  the  northward  and  eastward,  we  were 
soon  close  in  with  the  coast.  It  proved  to  be  a  low  rocky  islet, 
of  about  a  league  in  circumference,  and  altogether  destitute  of 
vegetation,  if  we  except  a  species  of  prickly  pear.  In  approach- 
ing it  from  the  northward,  a  singular  ledge  of  rock  is  seen  pro- 
jecting into  the  sea,  and  bearing  a  strong  resemblance  to  corded 
bales  of  cotton.  Around  this  ledge  to  the  westward  is  a  small 
bay,  at  the  bottom  of  which  our  boats  effected  a  convenient 
landing. 

It  did  not  take  us  long  to  explore  every  portion  of  the  island, 
but,  with  one  exception,  we  found  nothing  worthy  of  our  obser- 
vation. In  the  southern  extremity,  we  picked  up  near  the  shore, 
half  buried  in  a  pile  of  loose  stones,  a  piece  of  wood,  which 
seemed  to  have  formed  the  prow  of  a  canoe.  There  had  been 
evidently  some  attempt  at  carving  upon  it,  and  Captain  Guy 
fancied  that  he  made  out  the  figure  of  a  tortoise,  but  the  resem- 
blance did  not  strike  me  very  forcibly.  Besides  this  prow,  if 
such  it  were,  we  found  no  other  token  that  any  living  creature 
had  ever  been  here  before.  Around  the  coast  we  discovered 
occasional  small  floes  of  ice — but" .these  were  very  few.  The 
exact  situation  of  this  islet  (to  which  Captain  Guy  gave  the  name 
of  Bennet's  Islet,  in  honor  of  his  partner  in  the  ownership  of  the 
schooner)  is  82°  50'  S.  latitude,  42°  20'  W.  longitude. 

We  had  now  advanced  to  the  southward  more  than  eight  de- 
grees farther  than  any  previous  navigators,  and  the  sea  still  lay 
perfectly  open  before  us.  We  found,  too,  that  the  variation 
uniformly  decreased  as  we  proceeded,  and,  what  was  still  more 
surprising,  that  the  temperature  of  the  air.  and  latterly  of  the 
water,  became  milder.  The  weather  might  even  be  called 


140  NARRATIVE  OF 

pleasant,  and  we  had  a  steady  but  very  gen  le  breeze  always 
from  some  northern  point  of  the  compass.  The  sky  was  usually 
clear,  with  now  and  then  a  slight  appearance  of  thin  vapor  in  the 
southern  horizon — this,  however,  was  invariably  of  brief  duration. 
Two  difficulties  alone  presented  themselves  to  our  view  ;  we 
were  getting  short  of  fuel,  and  symptoms  of  scurvy  had  occurred 
among  several  of  the  crew.  These  considerations  began  to  im- 
press upon  Captain  Guy  the  necessity  of  returning,  and  he  spoke 
of  it  frequently.  For  my  own  part,  confident  as  I  was  of  soon 
arriving  at  land  of  some  description  upon  the  course  we  were 
pursuing,  and  having  every  reason  to  believe,  from  present  ap- 
pearances, that  we  should  not  find  it  the  sterile  soil  met  with  in 
the  higher  Arctic  latitudes,  I  warmly  pressed  upon  him  the 
expediency  of  persevering,  at' least  for  a  few  days  longer,  in  the 
direction  we  were  now  holding.  So  tempting  an  opportunity  of 
solving  the  great  problem  in  regard  to  an  Antarctic  continent 
had  never  yet  been  afforded  to  man,  and  I  confess  that  I  felt  my- 
self bursting  with  indignation  at  the  timid  and  ill-timed  sugges- 
tions of  our  commander.  I  believe,  indeed,  that  what  I  could 
not  refrain  from  saying  to  him  on  this  head  had  the  effect  of  indu- 
cing him  to  push  on.  While,  therefore,  I  cannot  but  lament  the 
most  unfortunate  and  bloody  events  which  immediately  arose 
from  my  advice,  I  must  still  be  allowed  to  feel  some  degree  of 
gratification  at  having  been  instrumental,  however  remotely,  in 
opening  to  the  eye  of  science  one  of  the  most  intensely  exciting 
secrets  which  has  ever  engrossed  its  attention. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

JANUARY  18.  This  morning*  we  continued  to  the  southward, 
with  the  same  pleasant  weather  as  before.  The  sea  was  entirely 
smooth,  the  air  tolerably  warm  and  from  the  northeast,  the  tem- 
perature :>f  the  water  fifty-three.  We  now  again  got  our  sound- 
ing-gear in  order,  and,  with  a  hundred  and  fifty  fathoms  of  line, 

*  The  terms  morning  and  evening,  which  I  have  made  use  of  to  avoid 
confusion  in  my  narrative,  as  far  as  possible,  must  not,  of  rourse,  be  taken 


A.  GORDON  PVM.  141 

found  the  current  setting  towards  the  pole  at  the  rate  of  a  mil« 
tin  hour.  This  constant  tendency  to  ihe  southward,  both  in  th<» 
wind  and  current,  caused  some  degree  of  speculation,  and  even 
of  alarm,  in  different  quarters  of  the  schooner,  and  I  saw  dis- 
tinctly that  no  little  impression  had  been  made  upon  the  mind 
of  Captain  Guy.  He  was  exceedingly  sensitive  to  ridicule, 
however,  and  I  finally  succeeded  in  laughing  him  out  of  his  ap- 
prehensions. The  variation  was  now  very  trivial.  In  the  course 
of  the  day  we  saw  several  large  whales  of  the  right  species,  and 
innumerable  flights  of  the  albatross  passed  over  the  vessel.  We 
also  picked  up  a  bush,  full  of  red  berries,  like  those  of  the  haw- 
thorn, and  the  carcass  of  a  singular-looking  land-animal.  It 
was  three  feet  in  length,  and  but  six  inches  in  height,  with  four 
very  short  legs,  the  feet  armed  with  long  claws  of  a  brilliant 
scarlet,  and  resembling  coral  in  substance.  The  body  was 
covered  with  a  straight  silky  hair,  perfectly  white.  The  tail  was 
peaked  like  that  of  a  rat,  and  about  a  foot  and  a  half  long.  The 
head  resembled  a  cat's,  with  the  exception  of  the  ears — these 
were  flapped  like  the  ears  of  a  dog.  The  teeth  were  of  the  same 
brilliant  scarlet  as  the  claws. 

January  19.  To-day,  being  in  latitude  83°  20',  longitude  43° 
5'  "W.  (the  sea  being  of  an  extraordinarily  dark  color),  we  again 
saw  land  from  the  masthead,  and,  upon  a  closer  scrutiny,  found 
it  to  be  one  of  a  group  of  very  large  islands.  The  shore  was 
precipitous,  and  the  interior  seemed  to  be  well  wooded,  a  circum- 
stance which  occasioned  us  great  joy.  In  about  four  hours  from 
our  first  discovering  the  land  we  came  to  anchor  in  ten  fathoms, 
sandy  bottom,'a  league  from  the  coast,  as  a  high  surf,  with  strong 
ripples  here  and  there,  rendered  a  nearer  approach  of  doubtful 
expediency.  The  two  largest  boats  were  now  ordered  out,  and 
a  party,  well  armed  (among  whom  were  Peters  and  myself), 

in  their  ordinary  sense.  For  a  long  time  past  we  had  had  no  nighl  at  all, 
the  daylight  being  continual.  The  dates  throughout  are  according  to  nauti- 
cal time,  and  the  bearings  must  be  understood  as  per  compass.  I  would 
also  remark,  in  this  place,  that  I  cannot,  in  the  first  portion  of  what  is  here 
written,  pretend  to  strict  accuracy  in  respect  to  dates,  or  latitudes  and  lon-- 
gitudes,  having  kept  no  regular  journal  until  after  the  period  of  which  this 
first  portion  treats.  In  many  instances  I  have  relied  altogether  upon 
memory. 


142  NARRATIVE  OF 

proceeded  to  look  for  an  opening  in  the  reef  which  appeared  to 
encircle  the  island.  Afier  searching  about  for  some  time,  we 
discovered  an  inlet,  which  we  were  2ntering,  when  we  saw  four 
large  canoes  put  off  from  the  shore,  filled  with  men  who  seemed 
to  be  well  armed.  We  waited  for  them  to  come  up,  and,  as  they 
moved  with  great  rapidity,  they  were  soon  within  hail.  Captain 
Guy  now  held  up  a  white  handkerchief  on  the  blade  of  an  oar, 
when  the  strangers  made  a  full  stop,  and  commenced  a  loud  jab- 
bering all  at  once,  intermingled  with  occasional  shouts,  in  which 
we  could  distinguish  the  words  Anamoo-moo!  and  Lama-Lama  ! 
They  continued  this  for  at  least  half  an  hour,  during  which  we 
had  a  good  opportunity  of  observing  their  appearance. 

In  the  four  canoes,  which  might  have  been  fifty  feet  long  and 
five  broad,  there  were  a  hundred  and  ten  savages  in  all.  They 
were  about  the  ordinary  stature  of  Europeans,  but  of  a  more 
muscular  and  brawny  frame  Their  complexion  a  jet  black, 
with  thick  and  long  woolly  hair.  They  were  clothed  in  skins  of 
an  unknown  black  animal,  shaggy  and  silky,  and  made  to  fit  the 
body  with  some  degree  of  skill,  the  hair  being  inside,  except 
where  turned  out  about  the  neck,  wrists,  and  ankles.  Their 
arms  consisted  principally  of  clubs,  of  a  dark,  and  apparently 
very  heavy  wood.  Some  spears,  however,  were  observed  amcng 
them,  headed  with  flint,  and  a  few  slings.  The  bottoms  of  the 
canoes  were  full  of  black  stones  about  the  size  of  a  large  egg. 

When  they  had  concluded  their  harangue  (for  it  was  clear 
they  intended  theii  jabbering  for  such),  one  of  them  who  seemed 
to  be  the  chief  stood  up  in  the  pro\v  of  his  canoe,  and  made 
signs  for  us  to  bring  our  boats  alongside  of  him.  This  hint  we 
pretended  not  to  understand,  thinking  it  the  wiser  plan  to  main- 
tain, if  possible,  the  interval  between  us,  as  their  number  more 
than  quadrupled  our  own.  Finding  this  to  be  the  case,  the  chief 
ordered  the  three  other  canoes  to  hold  back,  while  he  advanced 
towards  us  with  his  own.  As  soon  as  he  came  up  with  us  he 
leaped  on  board  the  largest  of  our  boats,  and  seated  himself  by 
the  side  of  Captain  Guy,  pointing  at  the  same  time  to  the 
schooner,  and  repeating  the  words  Anamoo-moo!  and  Lama- 
Lama!  We  now  put  back  to  the  vessel  the  four  canoes  follow- 
ing at  a  little  distance. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  143 

Upon  getting  alongside,  the  chief  evinced  symptoms  of  extreme 
surprise  and  delight,  clapping  his  hands,  slapping  his  thighs  and 
breast,  and  laughing  obstreperously.  His  followers  behind 
joined  in  his  merriment,  and  for  some  minutes  the  din  was  so 
excessive  as  to  be  absolutely  deafening.  Quiet  being  at  length 
restored,  Captain  Guy  ordered  the  boats  to  be  hoisted  up,  as  n 
necessary  precaution,  and  gave  the  chief  (whose  name  we  soon 
found  to  be  Too-wit)  to  understand  that  "ve  could  admit  no  mora 
than  twenty  of  his  men  on  deck  at  one  time.  With  this  arrange- 
ment  he  appeared  perfectly  satisfied,  and  gave  some  directions 
to  the  canoes,  when  one  of  them  approached,  the  rest  remaining 
about  fifty  yards  off.  Twenty  of  the  savages  now  got  on  board, 
and  proceeded  to  ramble  over  every  part  of  the  deck,  and 
scramble  about  among  the  rigging,  making  themselves  much  at 
home,  and  examining  every  article  with  great  inquisitiveness. 

It  was  quite  evident  that  they  had  never  before  seen  any  of 
the  white  race — from  whose  complexion,  indeed,  they  appeared 
to  recoil.  They  believed  the  Jane  to  be  a  living  creature,  and 
seemed  to  be  afraid  of  hurting  it  with  the  points  of  their  spears 
carefully  turning  them  up.  Our  crew  were  much  amused  with 
the  conduct  of  Too-wit  in  one  instance.  The  cook  was  splitting 
some  wood  near  the  galley,  and,  by  accident,  struck  his  axe  into 
the  deck,  making  a  gash  of  considerable  depth.  The  chief  im- 
mediately ran  up,  and  pushing  the  cook  on  one  side  rather 
roughly,  commenced  a,  half  whine,  half  howl,  strongly  indicative 
of  sympathy  in  what  he  considered  the  sufferings  of  the  schooner, 
patting  and  smoothing  the  gash  with  his  hand,  and  washing  it 
from  a  bucket  of  seawater  which  stood  by.  This  was  a  degree 
of  ignorance  for  which  we  were  not  prepared,  and  for  my  part  I 
could  not  help  thinking  some  of  it  atfected. 

When  the  visitors  had  satisfied,  as  well  as  they  could,  their 
curiosity  in  regard  to  our  upper  works,  they  were  admitted  be- 
low, when  their  amazement  exceeded  all  bounds.  Their  aston- 
ishment now  appeared  to  be  far  too  dt,ep  for  words,  for  they 
roamed  about  in  silence,  broken  only  by  low  ejaculations.  The 
arms  afforded  them  much  food  for  speculation,  and  they  were 
Buffered  to  handle  and  examine  them  at  leisure.  1  do  not  believe 
that  they  had  the  least  suspicion  of  their  actual  use,  but  rather 


144  NARRATIVE  OF 

took  them  for  idols,  seeing  the  care  we  had  of  them,  and  the 
attention  with  \vhich  we  watched  their  movements  while  hand- 
ling them.  At  the  great  guns  their  wonder  was  redoubled 
They  approached  them  with  every  mark  of  the  profoundest 
reveivnce  and  awe,  but  forbore  to  examine  them  minutely 
There  were  two  large  mirrors  in  the  cabin,  and  here  was  the 
acme  of  their  amazement.  Too-wit  was  the  first  to  approach 
them,  and  he  had  got  in  the  middle  of  the  cabin,  with  his  face  to 
one  and  his  back  to  the  other,  before  he  fairly  perceived  them. 
Upon  raising  his  eyes  and  seeing  his  reflected  self  in  the  glass.  I 
thought  the  savage  would  go  mad  ;  but,  upon  turning  short 
round  to  make  a  retreat,  and  beholding  himself  a  second  time  in 
the  opposite  direction,  I  was  afraid  he  would  expire  upon  the 
spot.  No  persuasion  could  prevail  upon  him  to  take  another 
look ;  but,  throwing  himself  upon  the  floor,  with  his  face  buried 
in  his  hands,  he  remained  thus  until  we  were  obliged  to  drag 
him  upon  deck. 

The  whole  of  the  savages  were  admitted  on  board  in  this 
manner,  twenty  at  a  time,  Too-wit  being  suffered  to  remain 
during  the  entire  period.  We  saw  no  disposition  to  thievery 
among  them,  nor  did  we  miss  a  single  article  after  their  depart- 
ure. Throughout  the  whole  of  their  visit  they  evinced  the  most 
friendly  manner.  There  were,  however,  some  points  in  their 
demeanor  which  we  found  it  impossible  to  understand :  for  ex- 
ample, we  could  not  get  them  to  approach  several  very  harmless 
objects — such  as  the  schooner's  sails,  an  egg,  an  open  book,  or  a 
pan  of  flour.  We  endeavored  to  ascertain  if  they  had  among 
them  any  articles  Avhich  might  be  turned  to  account  in  the  way 
of  traffic,  but  found  great  difficulty  in  being  comprehended.  We 
made  out,  nevertheless,  what  greatly  astonished  us,  that  the 
islands  abounded  in  the  large  tortoise  of  the  Gallipagos.  one  of 
which  we  saw  in  the  canoe  of  Too-wit.  We  saw  also  some 
biche  de  mer  in  the  hands  of  one  of  the  savages,  who  was  greed- 
ily devouring  it  in  its  natural  state.  These  anomalies,  for  they 
were  such  when  considered  in  regard  to  the  latitude,  induced 
Captain  Guy  to  wish  for  a  thorough  investigation  of  the  country, 
in  the  hope  of  making  a  profitable  speculation  in  his  discovery. 
For  my  own  part,  anxious  as  I  \vas  to  know  something  more  of 


\    GORDON  PYM.  145 

r.hese  islands,  I  was  still  more  earnestly  bent  on  prosecuting  the 
voyage  to  the  southward  without  delay.  We  had  now  fine 
weather,  but  there  was  no  telling  how  long  it  would  last ;  and 
being  already  in  the  eighty-fourth  parallel,  with  an  open  sea  be- 
fore us,  a  current  setting  strongly  to  the  southward,  and  the  wind 
fair,  I  could  not  listen  with  any  patience  to  a  proposition  of 
stopping  longer  than  was  absolutely  necessary  for  the  health  of 
the  crew  and  the  taking  on  board  a  proper  supply  of  fuel  and 
fresh  provisions.  I  represented  to  the  captain  that  we  might 
easily  make  this  group  on  our  return,  and  winter  here  in  the 
event  of  being  blocked  up  by  the  ice.  He  at  length  came  into 
my  views  (for  in  some  way,  hardly  known  to  myself,  I  had  ac- 
quired much  influence  over  him),  and  it  was  finally  resolved  thatj 
even  in  the  event  of  our  finding  biche  de  ?ner,  we  should  only  stay 
here  a  week  to  recruit,  and  then  push  on  to  the  southward  while 
we  might.  Accordingly  we  made  every  necessary  preparation, 
and,  under  the  guidance  of  Too-wit,  got  the  Jane  through  the 
reef  in  safety,  coming  to  anchor  about  a  mile  from  the  shore,  in 
an  excellent  bay,  completely  landlocked,  on  the  southeastern  coast 
of  the  main  island,  and  in  ten  fathoms  of  water,  black  sandy  bot- 
tom. At  the  head  of  this  bay  there  were  three  fine  springs  (we 
were  told)  of  good  water,  arid  we  saw  abundance  of  wood  in  the 
vicinity.  The  four  canoes  followed  us  in,  keeping,  however,  at  a 
respectful  distance.  Too-wit  himself  remained  on  board,  and, 
upon  our  dropping  anchor,  invited  us  to  accompany  him  on  shore, 
and  visit  his  village  in  the  interior.  To  this  Captain  Guy  con- 
sented ;  and  ten  savages  being  left  on  board  as  hostages,  a  party 
of  us,  twelve  in  all,  got  in  readiness  to  attend  the  chief.  We 
took  care  to  be  well  armed,  yet  without  evincing  any  distrust. 
The  schooner  had  her  guns  run  out,  her  boarding-nettings  up, 
and  every  other  proper  precaution  was  taken  to  guard  against 
surprise.  Directions  were  left  with  the  chief  mate  to  admit  no 
person  on  board  during  our  absence,  and,  in  the  event  of  our  not 
appearing  in  twelve  hours,  to  send  the  cutter,  with  a  swivel, 
Around  the  island  in  search  of  us. 

At  every  step  we  took  inland  the  conviction  forced  itself  upon 
us  that  we  were  in  a  country  differing  essentially  from  any  hith- 
erto visited  by  civilized  men.  We  saw  nothing  with  which  we 


146  NARRATIVE  OF 

tnd  been  formerly  conversant.  The  trees  resembled  no  giowth 
of  either  the  torrid,  the  temperate,  or  the  northern  frigid  zones 
and  were  altogether  unlike  those  of  the  lower  southern  latitudes 
we  had  already  traversed.  The  very  rocks  were  novel  in  their 
mass,  their  color,  and  their  stratification  ;  and  the  streams  them- 
selves, utterly  incredible  as  it  may  appear,  had  so  little  in  com 
mon  with  those  of  other  climates,  that  we  were  scrupulous  of 
tasting  them,  and,  indeed,  had  difficulty  in  bringing  ourselves  to 
believe  that  their  qualities  were  purely  those  of  nature.  At  a 
small  brook  which  crossed  our  path  (the  first  we  had  reached) 
Too-wit  and  his  attendants  halted  to  drink.  On  account  of  the 
singular  character  of  the  water,  we  refused  to  taste  it,  supposing 
it  to  be  polluted ;  and  k  was  not  until  some  time  afterward  we 
came  to  understand  that  such  was  the  appearance  of  the  streams 
throughout  the  whole  group.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  give  a  distinct 
idea  of  the  nature  of  this  liquid,  and  cannot  do  so  without  many 
words.  Although  it  flowed  with  rapidity  in  all  declivities  where 
common  water  would  do  so,  yet  never,  except  when  falling  in  a 
cascade,  had  it  the  customary  appearance  of  limpidity.  It  was, 
nevertheless,  ia  point  of  fact,  as  perfectly  limpid  as  any  limestone 
water  in  existence,  the  difference  being  only  in  appearance.  At 
first  sight,  and  especially  in  cases  where  little  declivity  was 
found,  it  bore  resemblance,  as  regards  consistency,  to  a  thick  in- 
fusion of  gum  Arabic  in  common  water.  But  this  was  only  the 
least  remarkable  of  its  extraordinary  qualities.  It  was  not  color- 
•'<>ss,  nor  was  it  of  any  one  uniform  color — presenting  to  the  eye, 
as  it  flowed,  every  possible  shade  of  purple,  like  the  hues  of  a 
Changeable  silk.  This  variation  in  shade  was  produced  in  a 
manner  which  excited  as  profound  astonishment  in  the  minds  of 
our  party  as  the  mirror  had  done  in  the  case  of  Too-wit.  Upon 
collecting  a  basinful,  and  allowing  it  to  settle  thoroughly,  we  per- 
ceived that  the  whole  mass  of  liquid  was  made  up  of  a  number  of 
distinct  veins,  each  of  a  distinct  hue;  that  these  veins  did  not 
commingle  ;  and  that  their  cohesion  was  perfect  in  regard  to  theii 
own  particles  among  themselves,  and  imperfect  in  regard  to 
neighboring  veins.  Upon  passing  the  blade  of  a  knife  athwart 
the  -veins,  the  water  closed  over  it  immediately,  as  with  MS,  and 
also,  in  withdrawing  it,  all  traces  of  the  passage  of  the  knife  were 


\.  GORDON  PYM.  147 

instantly  obliterated.  If,  however,  the  blade  was  passed  down 
accurately  between  the  two  veins,  a  pnrfect  separation  was  ef 
f'ected,  which,  the  power  of  cohesion  did  not  immediately  rectify 
The  phenomena  of  this  water  formed  the  first  definite  link  in  that 
vast  chain  of  apparent  miracles  with  which  I  was  destined  to  be 
at  length  encircled. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WE  were  nearly  three  hours  in  reaching  the  village,  it  being 
more  than  nine  miles  in  the  interior,  and  the  path  lying  through 
a  rugged  country.  As  we  passed  along,  the  party  of  Too-wit 
(the  whole  hundred  and  ten  savages  of  the  canoes)  was  mo- 
mentarily strengthened  by  smaller  detachments,  of  from  two  to 
six  or  seven,  which  joined  us,  a;  if  by  accident,  at  different  turns 
in  the  road.  There  appeared  so  much  of  system  in  this  that  I 
could  not  help  feeling  distrust,  and  I  spoke  to  Captain  Guy  of 
my  apprehensions.  It  was  now  too  late,  however,  to  recede,  and 
we  concluded  that  our  best  security  lay  in  evincing  a  perfect  con- 
fidence in  the  good  faith  of  Too-wit.  We  accordingly  went  on, 
keeping  a  wary  eye  upon  the  manoeuvres  of  the  savages,  and  not 
permitting  them  to  divide  our  numbers  by  pushing  in  between. 
In  this  way,  passing  through  a  precipitous  ravine,  we  at  length 
reached  what  we  were  told  was  the  only  collection  of  habitations 
upon  the  island.  As  we  came  in  sight  of  them,  the  chief  set  up 
a  shout,  and  frequently  repeated  the  word  Klock-Klock ;  which 
we  supposed  to  be  the  name  of  the  village,  or  perhaps  the  ge- 
neric name  for  villages. 

The  dwellings  were  of  the  most  miserable  description  imaginable, 
and,  unlike  those  of  even  the  lowest  of  the  savage  races  with  which 
mankind  are  acquainted,  were  of  no  uniform  plan.  Some  of  them 
;and  these  we  found  belonged  to  the  Wampoos  or  Yampoos,  the 
great  men  of  the  land)  consisted  of  a  tree  cut  down  at  about  four 
feet  from  the  root,  with  a  large  black  skin  thrown  over  it,  and 
hanging  in  loose  folds  upon  the  ground.  Under  this  the  savage 
nestled.  Others  were  formed  by  means  of  rough  limbs  of  trees, 


148  NARRATIVE  OF 

/ 

with  the  withered  foliage  upon  them,  made  to  recline,  at  an  anirta 
of  forty-five  degrees,  against  a  bank  of  clay,  heaped  up,  without 
regular  form,  to  the  height  of  five  or  six  feet.  Others,  again, 
were  mere  holes  dug  in  the  earth  perpendicularly,  and  covered 
over  with  similar  branches,  these  being  removed  when  the  tenant 
was  about  to  enter,  and  pulled  on  again  when  he  had  entered. 
A  few  were  built  among  the  forked  limbs  of  trees  as  they  stood, 
the  upper  limbs  being  partially  cut  through,  so  as  to  bend  over 
upon  the  lower,  thus  forming  thicker  shelter  from  the  weather. 
The  greater  number,  however,  consisted  of  small  shallow  caverns, 
apparently  scratched  in  the  face  of  a  precipitous  ledge  of  dark 
stone,  resembling  fuller's  earth,  with  which  three  sides  of  the 
village  was  bounded.  At  the  door  of  each  of  these  primitive 
caverns  was  a  small  rock,  which  the  tenant  carefully  placed  be- 
fore the  entrance  upon  leaving  lib  residence,  for  what  purpose  I 
could  not  ascertain,  as  the  stone  itself  was  never  of  sufficient  size 
to  close  up  more  than  a  third  of  the  opening. 

This  village,  if  it  were  worthy  of  the  name,  lay  in  a  valley 
of  some  depth,  and  could  only  be  approached  from  the  south- 
ward, the  precipitous  ledge  of  which  I  have  already  spoken  cut- 
ting off  all  access  in  other  directions.  Through  the  middle  of 
the  valley  ran  a  brawling  stream  of  the  same  magical-looking 
water  which  has  been  described.  We  saw  several  strange  ani- 
mals about  the  dwellings,  all  appearing  to  be  thoroughly  domes- 
ticated. The  largest  of  these  creatures  resembled  our  common 
hog  in  the  structure  of  the  body  and  snout;  the  tail,  however, 
was  bushy,  and  the  legs  slender  as  those  of  the  antelope.  Its 
motion  was  exceedingly  awkward  and  indecisive,  and  we  never 
saw  it  attempt  to  run.  We  noticed  also  several  animals  very 
similar  in  appearance,  but  of  a  greater  length  of  body,  and  cov- 
ered with  a  black  wool.  There  were  a  great  variety  of  tame 
fowls  running  about,  and  these  seemed  to  constitute  the  chief 
food  of  the  natives.  To  our  astonishment  we  saw  black  albatross 
among  these  birds  in  a  state  of  entire  domestication,  going  to 
sea  periodically  for  food,  but  always  returning  to  the  village  a& 
a  home,  and  using  the  southern  shore  in  the  vicinity  as  a  place 
of  incubation.  There  they  were  joined  by  their  friends  the 
pelicans  as  usual,  but  these  latter  never  followed  them  to  the 


A.  GORDON  PYM  149 

dwellings  of  the  savages.  Among  the  other  kinds  of  lame 
fowls  were  duck?,  differing  very  little  from  the  canvass-back  of 
our  own  country,  black  gannets,  and  a  large  bird  not  unlike  the 
buzzard  in  appearance,  but  not  carnivorous.  Of  fish  there 
seemed  to  be  a  great  abundance.  We  saw,  during  our  visit,  a 
quantity  of  dried  salmon,  rock  cod,  blue  dolphins,  mackerel, 
blackfish.  skate,  conger  eels,  elephanl-fish,  mullets,  soles,  parrot' 
fish,  leather-jackets,  gurnards,  hake,  flounders,  paracutas,  and 
innumerable  other  varieties.  We  noticed,  too.  that  most  of  them 
were  similar  to  the  fish  about  the  group  of  the  Lord  Auckland 
Islands,  in  a  latitude  as  low  as  fifty-one  degrees  south.  The 
Gallipago  tortoise  was  also  very  plentiful.  We  saw  but  few 
•wild  animals,  and  none  of  a  large  size,  or  of  a  species  with  which 
we  were  familiar.  One  or  two  serpents  of  a  formidable  aspect 
crossed  our  path,  but  the  natives  paid  them  little  attention,  and 
we  concluded  that  they  were  not  venomous. 

As  \ve  approached  the  village  with  Too-wit  and  his  party,  a 
vast  crowd  of  the  people  rushed  out  to  meet  us,  with  loud 
siiouts,  among  which  we  could  only  distinguish  the  everlasting 
Anamoo-moo !  and  Lama-Lama!  We  were  much  surprised  at 
perceiving  that,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  these  new  comers 
were  entirely  naked,  the  skins  being  used  only  by  the  men  of 
the  canoes.  All  the  weapons  of  the  country  seemed  also  to  be 
in  the  possession  of  the  latter,  for  there  was  no  appearance  of 
any  among  the  villagers.  There  were  a  great  many  women  and 
children,  the  former  not  altogether  wanting  in  what  might  be 
termed  personal  beauty.  They  were  straight,  tall,  and  well 
formed,  with  a  grace  and  freedom  of  carriage  not  to  be  found  in 
civilized  society.  Their  lips,  however,  like  those  of  the  men, 
were  thick  and  clumsy,  so  that,  even  when  laughing,  the  teeth 
were  never  disclosed.  Their  hair  was  of  a  finer  texture  than 
that  of  the  males.  Among  these  naked  villagers  there  might 
have  been  ten  or  twelve  who  were  clothed,  like  the  party  of 
Too-wit,  in  dresses  of  black  skin,  and  armed  with  lances  and 
heavy  clubs.  These  appeared  to  have  great  influence  among 
the  rest,  and  were  always  addressed  by  the  title  Wampoo. 
These,  too,  were  the  tenants  of  the  black  skin  palaces.  That  01 
Too-wit  was  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  village,  and  was  much 


150  NARRATIVE  OF 

largor  and  somewhat  better  constructed  than  others  of  its  kind 
The  tree  which  formed  its  support  was  cut  off  at  a  distance  of 
twelve  feet  or  thereabout  from  the  root,  and  there  were  several 
branches  left  just  below  the  cut,  these  serving  to  extend  the 
covering,  and  in  this  way  prevent  its  flapping  about  the  trunk. 
The  covering,  too,  which  consisted  of  four  very  large  skins  fast- 
ened together  with  wooden  skewers,  was  secured  at  the  bottom 
with  pegs  driven  through  it  and  into  the  ground.  The  floor  was 
strewed  with  a  quantity  of  dry  leaves  by  way  of  carpet. 

To  this  hut  we  were  conducted  with  great  solemnity,  and  as 
many  of  the  natives  crowded  in  after  us  as  possible.  Too- wit 
seated  himself  on  the  leaves,  and  made  signs  that  we  should  fol- 
low his  example.  This  we  did,  and  presently  found  ourselves 
in  a  situation  peculiarly  uncomfortable,  if  not  indeed  critical. 
We  were  on  the  ground,  twelve  in  number,  with  the  savages,  as 
many  as  forty,  sitting  on  their  hams  so  closely  around  us  that,  if 
any  disturbance  had  arisen,  we  should  have  found  it  impossible 
to  make  use  of  our  arms,  or  indeed  to  have  risen  on  our  feet. 
The  pressure  was  not  only  inside  the  tent,  but  outside,  where 
probably  was  every  individual  on  the  whole  island,  the  crowd 
being  prevented  from  trampling  us  to  death  only  by  the  incessant 
exertions  and  vociferations  of  Too-wit.  Our  chief  security  lay, 
however,  in  the  presence  of  Too-wit  himself  among  us,  and  we 
resolved  to  stick  by  him  closely,  as  the  best  chance  of  extricating 
ourselves  from  the  dilemma,  sacrificing  him  immediately  upon 
the  first  appearance  of  hostile  design. 

After  some  trouble  a  certain  degree  of  quiet  was  restored 
when  the  chief  addressed  us  in  a  speech  of  great  length,  and 
very  nearly  resembling  the  one  delivered  in  the  canoes,  with 
the  exception  that  the  Anamoo-moos  !  were  now  somewhat  more 
strenuously  insisted  upon  than  the  Lama-Lumus  !  We  listened 
in  profound  silence  until  the  conclusion  of  his  harangue,  when 
Captain  Guy  replied  by  assuring  the  chief  of  his  eternal  friend- 
ship and  good-will,  concluding  what  he  had  to  say  by  a  present 
of  several  strings  of  blue  beads  and  a  knife.  At  the  former  the 
monarch,  much  to  our  surprise,  turned  up  his  nose  with  some 
expression  of  contempt ;  but  the  knife  gave  him  the  most  un- 
limited satisfaction,  and  he  immediately  ordevf-d  dinnev.  Thi 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  151 

was  handed  into  the  tent  over  the  heads  of  the  attendants,  and 
consisted  of  the  palpitating  entrails  of  a  species  of  unknown 
animal,  probably  one  of  the  slim-legged  hogs  which  we  had 
observed  in  our  approach  to  the  village.  Seeing  us  at  a  loss 
how  to  proceed,  he  began,  by  way  of  setting  us  an  example,  to 
devour  yard  after  yard  of  the  enticing  food,  until  we  could  posi- 
tively stand  it  no  longer,  and  evinced  such  manifest  symptoms 
of  rebellion  of  stomach  as  inspired  his  majesty  with  a  degree  of 
astonishment  only  inferior  to  that  brought  about  by  the  looking- 
glasses.  We  declined,  however,  partaking  of  the  delicacies 
before  us,  and  endeavored  to  make  him  understand  that  we  had 
no  appetite  whatever,  having  just  finished  a  hearty  dejeuner. 

When  the  monarch  had  made  an  end  of  his  meal,  we  com- 
mciiced  a  series  of  cross-questioning  in  every  ingenious  manner 
we  could  devise,  with  a  view  of  discovering  what  were  the  chief 
productions  of  the  country,  and  whether  any  of  them  might  be 
turned  to  profit.  At  length  he  seemed  to  have  some  idea  of  our 
meaning,  and  oifered  to  accompany  us  to  a  part  of  the  coast 
where  he  assured  us  the  biche  de  mer  (pointing  to  a  specimen  of 
that  animal)  was  to  be  found  in  great  abundance.  We  were 
glad  at  this  early  opportunity  of  escaping  from  the  oppression 
of  the  crowd,  and  signified  our  eagerness  to  proceed.  We  now 
left  the  tent,  and,  accompanied  by  the  whole  population  of  the 
village,  followed  the  chief  to  the  southeastern  extremity  of  the 
island,  not  far  from  the  bay  where  our  vessel  lay  at  anchor.  We 
waited  here  for  about  an  hour,  until  the  four  canoes  were  brought 
round  by  some  of  the  savages  to  our  station.  The  whole  of  our 
party  then  getting  into  one  of  them,  we  were  paddled  along  tho 
edge  of  the  reef  before  mentioned,  and  of  another  still  farther 
out,  where  we  saw  a  far  greater  quantity  of  biche  de  mer  than 
the  oldest  seaman  among  us  had  ever  seen  in  those  groups  of 
the  lower  latitudes  most  celebrated  for  this  article  of  commerce. 
We  stayed  near  these  reefs  only  long  enough  to  satisfy  ourselves 
that  we  could  easily  load  a  dozen  vessels  with  the  animal  if 
necessary,  when  we  were  taken  alongside  the  schooner,  and 
parted  with  Too-wit,  after  obtaining  from  him  a  promise  that  he 
would  bring  us.  in  the  course  of  twenty-four  hours,  as  many  of 
the  ranvass-back  duck«  and  Gallipago  tortoises  as  his  canoes 


152  NARRATIVE  OF 

would  hold.  In  the  whole  of  this  adventure  <ve  saw  nothing  in 
the  demeanor  of  the  natives  calculated  to  create  suspicion,  with 
the  single  exception  of  the  systematic  manner  in  which  their 
party  was  strengthened  during  our  route  from  the  schooner  to 
the  village. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  chief  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  we  were  soon  plentifully 
fcupplied  with  fresh  provision.  We  found  the  tortoises  as  fine  as 
we  had  ever  seen,  and  the  ducks  surpassed  our  best  species  of 
wild  fowl,  being  exceedingly  tender,  juicy,  and  well-flavored. 
Besides  these,  the  savages  brought  us,  upon  our  making  them 
cemprehend  our  wishes,  a  vast  quantity  of  brown  celery  and 
scurvy  grass,  with  a  canoe-load  of  fresh  fish  and  some  dried.  The 
celery  was  a  treat  indeed,  and  the  scurvy  grass  proved  of  incal- 
culable benefit  in  restoring  those  of  our  men  who  had  shown 
symptoms  of  disease.  In  a  very  short  time  we  had  not  a  single 
person  on  the  sick-list.  We  had  also  plenty  of  other  kinds  of 
fresh  provision,  among  which  may  be  mentioned  a  species  of 
shell-fish  resembling  the  muscle  in  shape,  but  with  the  taste 
of  an  oyster.  Shrimps,  too,  and  prawns  were  abundant,  and 
albatross  and  other  birds'  eggs  with  dark  shells.  We  took  in, 
too,  a  plentiful  stock  of  the  flesh  of  'the  hog  which  I  have  men- 
tioned before.  Most  of  the  men  found  it  a  palatable  food,  but  I 
thought  it  fishy  and  otherwise  disagreeable.  In  return  for  these 
good  things  we  presented  the  natives  with  blue  beads,  brass 
trinkets,  nail?,  knives,  and  pieces  of  red  cloth,  they  being  fully 
delighted  in  the  exchange.  We  established  a  regular  market  on 
shore,  just  under  the  guns  of  the  schooner,  where  our  barterings 
were  carried  on  with  every  appearance  of  good  faith,  and  a  de- 
gree of  order  which  their  conduct  at  the  village  of  Klock-klock 
had  not  led  us  to  expect  from  the  savages. 

Matters  went  on  thus  very  amicably  forseveral  days,  during  which 
parties  of  the  natives  were  frequently  on  board  the  schooner,  and 
parties  of  our  men  frequently  on  shore, '  making  long  excursion? 


A.  GORDON   I»Y.M.  153 

Into  the  interior,  and  receiving  no  molestation  whatever.  Find- 
ing the  ease  with  which  the  vessel  might  be  loaded  with  Inche  df 
>;?;'/%  owing  to  the  friendly  disposition  of  the  islanders,  and  the 
readiness  with  which  they  would  render  us  assistance  in  collecting 
it,  Captain  Guy  resolved  to  enter  into  negotiation  with  Too-wit 
for  the  erection  of  suitable  houses  in  which  to  cure  the  article, 
and  for  the  services  of  himself  and  tribe  in  gathering  as  much  as 
possible,  while  he  himself  took  advantage  of  the  fine  weather  to 
prosecute  his  voyage  to  the  southward.  Upon  mentioning  this 
project  to  the  chief  he  seemed  very  willing  to  enter  into  an  agree- 
ment. A  bargain  was  accordingly  struck,  perfectly  satisfactory 
to  both  parties,  by  which  it  was  arranged  that,  after  making  the 
necessary  preparations,  such  as  laying  off  the  proper  grounds, 
erecting  a  portion  of  the  buildings,  and  doing  some  other  work  in 
which  the  whole  of  our  crew  would  be  required,  the  schooner 
should  proceed  on  her  route,  leaving  three  of  her  men  on  the 
island  to  superintend  the  fulfilment  of  the  project,  and  instruct 
the  natives  in  drying  the  biche  de  mer.  In  regard  to  terms,  these 
were  made  to  depend  upon  the  exertions  of  the  savages  in  our 
absence.  They  were  to  receive  a  stipulated  quantity  of  blue 
beads,  knives,  red  cloth,  and  so  forth,  for  every  certain  number 
of  piculs  of  the  biche  de  mer  which  should  be  ready  on  our  re- 
turn. 

A  description  of  the  nature  of  this  important  article  of  com- 
merce, and  the  method  of  preparing  it,  may  prove  of  some  inter- 
est to  my  readers,  and  I  can  find  no  more  suitable  place  than  this 
for  introducing  an  account  of  it.  The  following  comprehensive 
notice  of  the  substance  is  taken  from  a  modern  history  of  a  voy- 
age to  the  South  Seas. 

"  It  is  that  mollusca  from  the  Indian  Seas  which  is  known  in 
commerce  by  the  French  name  bouche  de  mer  (a  nice  morsel 
from  the  sea).  If  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  the  celebrated  Cuvier 
calls  it  gastcropeda  pidmonifera.  It  is  abundantly  gathered  in 
the  coasts  of  the  Pacific  Islands,  and  gathered  especially  for  the 
Chinese  market,  where  it  commands  a  great  price,  perhaps  as 
much  as  their  much-talked-of  edible  bird's  nests,  which  are  pro- 
bably made  up  of  the  gelatinous  matter  picked  up  by  a  specie? 
of  swallow  from  the  body  of  these  molluscas.  They  have  no 


154  NARRATIVE  OF 

shell,  no  legs,  nor  any  prominent  part,  except  an  absorbing  ami 
an  excretory,  opposite  organs ;  but,  by  their  elastic  wings,  like 
caterpillars  or  worms,  they  creep  in  shallow  waters,  in  which, 
when  low,  they  can  be  seen  by  a  kind  of  swallow,  the  sharp  bill 
of  which,  inserted  in  the  soft  animal,  draws  a  gummy  and  fila- 
mentous substance,  which,  by  drying,  can  be  wrought  into  the 
solid  walls  of  their  nest.  Hence  the  name  of  gasteropeda  pul- 
monifera. 

This  mollusca  is  oblong,  and  of  different  sizes,  from  three  to 
eighteen  inches  in  length ;  and  I  have  seen  a  few  that  were  not 
less  than  two  feet  long.  They  are  nearly  round,  a  little  flattish 
on  one  side,  which  lies  next  the  bottom  of  the  sea ;  and  they  are, 
from  one  to  eight  inches  thick.  They  crawl  up  into  shallow  wa- 
ter at  particular  seasons  of  the  year,  probably  for  the  purpose  of 
gendering,  as  we  often  find  them  in  pairs.  It  is  when  the  sun 
has  the  most  power  on  the  water,  rendering  it  tepid,  that  they 
approach  the  shore ;  and  they  often  go  up  into  places  so  shallow 
that,  on  the  tide's  receding,  they  are  left  dry,  exposed  to  the  heat 
i>f  the  sun.  But  they  do  not  bring  forth  their  young  in  shallow 
water,  as  we  never  see  any  of  their  progeny,  and  the  full-grown 
ones  are  always  observed  coming  in  from  deep  water.  They  feed 
principally  on  that  class  of  zoophytes  which  produce  the  coral. 

"  The  biche  de  mer  is  generally  taken  in  three  or  four  feet 
water ;  after  which  they  are  brought  on  shore,  and  split  at  one 
end  with  a  knife,  the  incision  being  one  inch  or  more,  according 
to  the  size  of  the  mollusca.  Through  this  opening  the  entrails 
are  forced  out  by  pressure,  and  they  are  much  like  those  of  any 
other  small  tenant  of  the  deep.  The  article  is  then  washed,  and 
afterward  boiled  to  a  certain  degree,  which  must  not  be  too  much 
or  too  little.  They  are  then  buried  in  the  ground  for  four  hours 
then  boiled  again  for  a  short  time,  after  which  they  are  dried, 
either  by  the  fire  or  the  sun.  Those  cured  by  the  sun  are  worth 
the  most;  but  where  one  picul  (1331  Ibs.)  can  be  cured  that  way, 
I  can  cure  thirty  piculs  by  the  fire.  When  once  properly  cured, 
they  can  be  kept  in  a  dry  place  for  two  or  three  years  without 
any  risk ;  but  they  should  be  examined  once  in  every  few 
months,  say  four  times  a  year,  to  see  if  any  dampness  is  likely  to 
effect  them. 


A.  UURDON  PYM.  155 

"  The  Chinese,  as  before  stated,  consider  liclie  de  mer  a  very 
great  luxury,  believing  that  it  wonderfully  strengthens  and  nour- 
ishes the  system,  and  renews  the  exhausted  system  of  the  im- 
moderate voluptuary.  The  first  quality  commands  a  high  price 
in  Canton,  being  worth  ninety  dollars  a  picul ;  the  second  quality 
seventy-five  dollars ;  the  third  fifty  dollars  ;  the  fourth  thirty  dol- 
lars ;  the  fifth  twenty  dollars ;  the  sixth  twelve  dollars ;  the 
seventh  eight  dollars  ;  and  the  eighth  four  dollars  ;  small  cargoes, 
however,  will  often  bring  more  in  Manilla,  Singapore,  and  Batavia." 

An  agreement  having  been  thus  entered  into,  we  proceeded 
immediately  to  land  everything  necessary  for  preparing  the 
buildings  and  clearing  the  ground.  A  large  flat  space  near  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  bay  was  selected,  where  there  was  plenty 
both  of  wood  and  wrater,  and  within  a  convenient  distance  of  the 
principal  reefs  on  which  the  biche  de  mer  was  to  be  procured. 
We  now  all  set  to  work  in  good  earnest,  and  soon,  to  the  great 
astonishment  of  the  savages,  had  felled  a  sufficient  number  of 
trees  for  our  purpose,  getting  them  quickly  in  order  for  the  frame 
work  of  the  houses,  which  in  two  or  three  days  were  so  far  under 
way  that  we  could  safely  trust  the  rest  of  the  work  to  the  three 
men  whom  wre  intended  to  leave  behind.  These  were  John  Car 
son,  Alfred  Harris, Peterson  (all  natives  of  London,  I  be- 
lieve), who  volunteered  their  services  in  this  respect. 

By  the  last  of  the  month  we  had  everything  in  readiness  for 
departure.  We  had  agreed,  however,  to  pay  a  formal  visit  of 
leavestaking  to  the  village,  and  Too-wit  insisted  so  pertinaciously 
upon  our  keeping  the  promise,  that  we  did  not  think  it  advisable 
to  run  the  risk  of  offending  him  by  a  final  refusal.  I  believe 
that  not  one  of  us  had  at  this  time  the  slightest  suspicion  of  the 
good  faith  of  the  savages.  They  had  uniformly  behaved  with 
the  greatest  decorum,  aiding  us  with  alacrity  in  our  work,  offer- 
ing us  their  commodities,  frequently  without  price,  and  never, 
in  any  instance,  pilfering  a  single  article,  although  the  high 
value  they  set  upon  the  goods  we  had  with  us  was  evident  by 
the  extravagant  demonstrations  of  joy  always  manifested  upon 
our  making  them  a  present.  The  women  especially  were  most 
obliging  in  every  respect,  and,  upon  the  whole,  we  should  have 
been  the  most  suspicious  of  human  beings  had  we  entertained 


156  NARRATIVE  OF 

a  single  thought  of  perfidy  on  the  part  of  a  people  wlu  treat  wl 
us  &o  well.  A  very  short  while  sufficed  to  prove  that  this  appa- 
rent kindness  of  disposition  was  only  the  result  of  a  deeply-laid 
plan  for  our  destruction,  and  that  the  islanders  for  whom  we  en- 
tertained such  inordinate  feelings  of  esteem,  were  among  the 
jiost  barbarous,  subtle,  and  bloodthirsty  wretches  that  ever  con- 
taminated the  face  of  the  globe. 

It  was  on  the  first  of  February  that  we  went  on  shore  for  the 
purpose  of  visiting  the  village.  Although,  as  said  before,  we 
entertained  not  the  slightest  suspicion,  still  no  proper  precaution 
was  neglected.  Six  men  were  left  in  the  schooner,  with  instruc- 
tions to  permit  none  of  the  savages  to  approach  the  vessel  during 
our  absence,  under  any  pretence  whatever,  and  to  remain  con- 
stantly on  deck.  The  boarding-nettings  were  up,  the  guns 
double-shotted  with  grape  and  canister,  and  the  swivels  loaded 
with  canisters  of  musket-balls.  She  lay,  with  her  anchor  apeak, 
*bout  a  mile  from  the  shore,  and  no  canoe  could  approach  her 
>n  any  direction  without  being  distinctly  seen  and  exposed  to 
the  full  fire  of  our  swivels  immediately. 

The  six  men  being  left  on  board,  our  shore-party  consisted  ol 
thirty-two  persons  in  all.  We  were  armed  to  the  teeth,  bavin;; 
with  us  muskets,  pistols,  and  cutlasses,  besides  each  a  long  kinci 
of  seaman's  knife,  somewhat  resembling  the  Bowie  knife  now  ao 
much  used  throughout  our  western  and  southern  country.  A 
hundred  of  the  black  skin  warriors  met  us  at  the  landing  for  the 
purpose  of  accompanying  us  on  our  way.  We  noticed,  however, 
with  some  surprise,  that  they  were  now  entirely  without  arms  i 
and,  upon  questioning  Too-wit  in  relation  to  this  circumstance, 
he  merely  answered  that  Mattce  non  we  pa  pa  si — meaning  that 
there  was  no  need  of  arms  where  all  were  brothers.  We  took 
this  in  good  part,  and  proceeded. 

We  had  passed  the  spring  and  rivulet  of  which  I  before 
spoke,  and  were  now  entering  upon  a  narrow  gorge  leading 
through  the  chain  of  soapstone  hills  among  which  the  village 
was  situated.  This  gorge  was  very  rocky  and  uneven,  so  much 
so  that  it  was  with  no  little  difficulty  we  scrambled  through  it  on 
our  first  visit  to  Klock-klock.  The  whole  length  of  the  ravine 
might  have  been  a  mile  and  a  half,  or  probably  two  miles.  It 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  .        157 

wound  in  every  possible  direction  through  the  hills  (having 
apparently  formed,  at  some  remote  period,  the  bed  of  a  torrent), 
in  no  instance  proceeding  more  than  twenty  yards  without  an 
abrupt  turn.  The  sides  of  this  dell  would  have  averaged,  I  am 
sure,  seventy  or  eighty  feet  in  perpendicular  altitude  throughout 
the  whole  of  their  extent,  and  in  some  portions  they  arose  to  an 
ast<  nishing  height,  overshadowing  the  pass  so  completely  that 
but  little  of  the  light  of  day  could  penetrate.  The  general  width 
was  about  forty,  feet,  and  occasionally  it  diminished  so  as  not  to 
allow  the  passage  of  more  than  five  or  six  persons  abreast.  In 
short,  there  could  be  no  place  in  the  world  better  adapted  for  the 
consummation  of  an  ambuscade,  and  it  was  no  more  than  natural 
that  we  should  look  carefully  to  our  arms  as  we  entered  upon  it. 
When  I  now  think  of  our  egregious  folly,  the  chief  subject  of 
astonishment  seems  to  be,  that  we  should  have  ever  ventured, 
under  any  circumstances,  so  completely  into  the  power  of  un- 
known savages  as  to  permit  them  to  march  both  before  and 
behind  us  in  our  progress  through  this  ravine.  Yet  such  was 
the  order  we  blindly  took  up,  trusting  foolishly  to  the  force  of 
our  party,  the  unarmed  condition  of  Too-wit  and  his  men,  the 
certain  efficacy  of  our  fire-arms  (whose  effect  was  yet  a  secret  to 
the  natives),  and,  more  than  all,  to  the  long-sustained  pretension 
of  friendship  kept  up  by  these  infamous  wretches.  Five  or  six 
of  them  went  on  before,  as  if  to  lead  the  way,  ostentatiously 
busying  themselves  in  removing  the  larger  stones  and  rubbish 
from  the  path,  j^ext  came  our  own  party.  We  walked  closely 
together,  taking  care  only  to  prevent  separation.  Behind  fol- 
lowed the  main  body  of  the  savages,  observing  unusual  order 
and  decorum. 

Dirk  Peters,  a  man  named  Wilson  Allen,  and  myself  were  on 
the  right  of  our  companions,  examining,  as  we  went  along,  the 
singular  stratification  of  the  precipice  which  overhung  us.  A 
fissure  in  the  soft  rock  attracted  our  attention.  It  was  about 
wide  enough  for  one  person  to  enter  without  squeezing,  and  ex- 
tended back  into  the  hill  some  eighteen  or  twenty  feet  in  a 
straight  course,  sloping  afterward  to  the  left.  The  height  of  the 
opening,  as  far  as  we  could  see  into  it  from  the  main  gorge,  was 
perhaps  sixty  or  seventy  feet.  There  were  one  or  two  stunted 


158  NARRATIVE  OF 

shrubs  growing  from  the  crevices,  bearing  a  species  of  filberi 
which  I  felt  some  curiosity  to  examine,  and  pushed  in  briskly 
for  that  purpose,  gathering  five  or  six  of  the  nuts  at  a  gnv>p, 
and  then  hastily  retreating.  As  I  turned,  I  fo  ind  that  Peters 
and  Allen  had  followed  me.  I  desired  them  to  go  back,  as  there 
was  not  room  for  two  persons  to  pass,  saying  they  shouM  have 
some  ol  my  nuts.  They  accordingly  turned,  and  were  scram- 
bling back,  Allen  being  close  to  the  mouth  of  the  fissure,  when 
I  was  suddenly  aware  of  a  concussion  resembling  nothing  I  had 
ever  before  experienced,  and  which  impressed  me  with  a  vague 
conception,  if  indeed  I  then  thought  of  anything,  that  the  whole 
foundations  of  the  solid  globe  were  suddenly  rent  asunder,  and 
that  the  day  of  universal  dissolution  was  at  hand. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

As  soon  as  I  could  collect  my  scattered  senses,  I  found  myself 
aearly  suffocated,  and  grovelling  in  utter  darkness  among  a 
quantity  of  loose  earth,  which  was  also  falling  upon  me  heavily 
in  every  direction,  threatening  to  bury  me  entirely.  Horribly 
alarmed  at  this  idea,  I  struggled  to  gain  my  feet,  and  at  length 
succeeded.  I  then  remained  motionless  for  some  moments,  en- 
deavoring to  conceive  what  had  happened  to  me,  and  where  I 
was.  Presently  I  heard  a  deep  groan  just  at  my  ear,  and  after- 
ward the  smothered  voice  of  Peters  calling  to  me  for  aid  in  the 
name  of  God.  I  scrambled  one  or  two  paces  forward,  when  I 
fell  directly  over  the  head  and  shoulders  of  my  companion,  who, 
I  soon  discovered,  was  buried  in  a  loose  mass  of  earth  as  far  as 
his  middle,  and  struggling  desperately  to  free  himself  from  the 
pressure.  I  tore  the  dirt  from  around  him  with  all  the  energy 
I  could  command,  and  at  length  succeeded  in  getting  him  out. 

As  soon  as  we  sufficiently  recovered  from  our  fright  and  sur- 
prise to  be  capable  of  conversing  rationally,  we  both  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  walls  of  the  fissure  in  which  we  had  ventured 
had,  by  some  convulsion  of  nature,  or  probably  from  their  own 
weight,  caved  in  overhead,  and  that  we  were  consequently  lost 
for  ever,  being  thus  entombed  alive.  For  a  long  time  we  gave 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  159 

up  supinely  to  the  most  intense  agony  and  despair,  such  as  can- 
not be  adequately  imagined  by  those  who  have  never  been  in  a 
similar  situation.  I  firmly  believed  that  no  incident  ever  occur- 
ring in  the  course  of  human  events  is  more  adapted  to  inspire 
the  supremeness  of  mental  and  bodily  distress  than  a  case  like 
our  own,  of  living  inhumation.  The  blackness  of  darkness 
which  envelops  the  victim,  the  terrific  oppression  of  lungs,  the 
stifling  fumes  from  the  damp  earth,  unite  with  the  ghastly  con- 
siderations that  we  are  beyond  the  remotest  confines  of  hope, 
and  that,  such  is  the  allotted  portion  of  the  dead,  to  carry  into  the 
human  heart  a  degree  of  appalling  awe  and  horror  not  to  be 
tolerated — never  to  be  conceived. 

At  length  Peters  proposed  that  we  should  endeavor  to  ascer 
tain  precisely  the  extent  of  our  calamity,  and  grope  about  our 
prison ;  it  being  barely  possible,  he  observed,  that  some  opening 
might  be  yet  left  us  for  escape.  I  caught  eagerly  at  this  hope, 
and,  arousing  myself  to  exertion,  attempted  to  force  my  way 
through  the  loose  earth.  Hardly  had  I  advanced  a  single  step 
before  a  glimmer  of  light  became  perceptible,  enough  to  convince 
me  that,  at  all  events,  we  should  not  immediately  perish  for  want 
of  air.  We  now  took  some  degree  of  heart,  and  encouraged  each 
other  to  hope  for  the  best.  Having  scrambled  over  a  bank  of 
rubbish  which  impeded  our  farther  progress  in  the  direction  of 
the  light,  we  found  less  difficulty  in  advancing,  and  also  experi- 
enced some  relief  from  the  excessive  oppression  of  lungs  which 
had  tormented  us.  Presently  we  were  enabled  to  obtain  a  glimpse 
of  the  objects  around,  and  discovered  that  we  were  near  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  straight  portion  of  the  fissure,  where  it  made  a 
turn  to  the  left.  A  few  struggles  more,  and  we  reached  the 
bend,  when,  to  our  inexpressible  joy,  there  appeared  a  long  seam 
or  crack  extending  upward  a  vast  distance,  generally  at  an  angle 
of  about  forty-five  degrees,  although  sometimes  much  more  pre- 
cipitous. We  could  not  see  through  the  whole  extent  of  this 
opening  ;  but,  as  a  good  deal  of  light  came  down  it,  we  had  little 
doubt  of  finding  at  the  top  of  it  -(if  we  could  by  any  means  reach 
the  top)  a  clear  passage  into  the  open  air. 

I  now  called  to  mind  that  three  of  us  had  entered  the  fissure 
from  the  main   gorge,  and   that  our  companion,  Allen,  was  still 


160  NARRATIVE  OF 

missing  ;  we  determined  at  once  to  retrace  our  steps  and  look  for 
him.  After  a  long  search,  and  much  danger  from  the  farther 
caving  in  of  the  earth  above  us,  Peters  at  length  cried  out  to  me 
that  he  had  hold  of  our  companion's  foot,  and  that  his  whole  body 
was  deeply  buried  beneath  the  rubbish,  beyond  a  possibility  of 
extricating  him.  I  soon  found  that  what  he  said  was  too  true, 
and  that,  of  course,  life  had  been  long  extinct.  With  sorrowf'uS 
hearts,  therefore,  we  left  the  corpse  to  its  fate,  and  again  made 
our  way  to  the  bend. 

The  breadth  of  the  seam  was  barely  sufficient  to  admit  us,  and, 
after  one  or  two  ineffectual  efforts  at  getting  up,  we  began  once 
more  to  despair.  I  have  before  said  that  the  chain  of  hills 
through  which  ran  the  main  gorge  was  composed  of  a  species  of 
soft  rock  resembling  soap-stone.  The  sides  of  the  cleft  we  were 
now  attempting  to  ascend  were  of  the  same  material,  and  so  ex- 
cessively slippery,  being  wet,  that  we  could  get  but  little  foot- 
hold upon  them  even  in  their  least  precipitous  parts ;  in  somo 
places,  where  the  ascent  was  nearly  perpendicular,  the  difficulty 
was,  of  course,  much  aggravated ;  and,  indeed,  for  some  time  we 
thought  it  insurmountable.  We  took  courage,  however,  from 
despair ;  and  what,  by  dint  of  cutting  steps  in  the  soft  stone  with 
our  Bowie  knives,  and  swinging,  at  the  risk  of  our  lives,  to  small 
projecting  points  of  a  harder  species  of  slaty  rock  which  now  and 
then  protruded  from  the  general  mass,  we  at  length  reached  a 
natural  platform,  from  which  was  perceptible  a  patch  of  blue  sky, 
at  the  extremity  of  a  thickly- wooded  ravine.  Looking  back  now, 
with  somewhat  more  leisure,  at  the  passage  through  which  we 
had  thus  far  proceeded,  we  clearly  saw,  from  the  appearance  of 
its  side%  that  it  was  of  late  formation,  and  we  concluded  that  the 
concussion,  whatever  it  was,  which  had  so  unexpectedly  over- 
whelmed us,  had  also,  at  the  same  moment,  laid  open  this  path 
for  escape.  Being  quite  exhausted  with  exertion,  and,  indeed 
so  weak  that  we  were  scarcely  able  to  stand  or  articulate,  Peters 
now  proposed  that  we  should  endeavor  to  bring  our  companions 
to  the  rescue  by  firing  the  pistols  which  still  remained  in  our 
girdles — the  muskets  as  well  as  cutlasses  had  been  lost  among 
the  loose  earth  at  the  bottom  of  the  chasm.  Subsequent  event? 
proved  that,  had  we  fired,  we  should  have  sorely  repented  it 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  161 

but,  luckily,  a  half  suspicion  of  foul  play  had  by  this  time  arisen 
in  my  mind,  and  we  forbore  to  let  the  savages  know  of  oui 
whereabouts. 

After  having  reposed  for  about  an  hour,  we  pushed  on  slowly 
up  the  ravine,  and  had  gone  no  great  way  before  we  heard  a 
succession  of  tremendous  yells.  At  length  we  reached  what 
might  be  called  the  surface  of  the  ground  ;  for  our  path  hitherto, 
since  leaving  the  platform,  had  lain  beneath  an  archway  of  high 
rock  and  foliage,  at  a  vast  distance  overhead.  With  great  cau- 
tion we  stole  to  a  narrow  opening,  through  which  we  had  a  clear 
sight  of  the  surrounding  country,  when  the  whole  dreadful  secret 
of  the  concussion  broke  upon  us  in  one  moment  and  at  one 
view. 

The  spot  from  which  w«  looked  was  not  far  from  the  summit 
of  the  highest  peak  in  the  range  of  the  soapstone  hills.  The 
gorge  in  which  our  party  of  thirty-two  had  entered  ran  within 
fifty  feet  to  the  left  of  us.  But,  for  at  least  one  hundred  yards, 
the  channel  or  bed  of  this  gorge  was  entirely  filled  up  with  the 
chaotic  ruins  of  more  than  a  million  tons  of  earth  and  stone  that 
had  been  artificially  tumbled  within  it.  The  means  by  which 
the  vast  mass  had  been  precipitated  were  not  more  simple  than 
evident,  for  sure  traces  of  the  murderous  work  were  yet  remain- 
ing. In  several  spots  along  the  top  of  the  eastern  side  of  the 
gorge  (we  were  now  on  the  western)  might  be  seen  stakes  of 
wood  driven  into  the  earth.  In  these  spots  the  earth  had  not 
given  way  ;  but  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  the  face  of  the 
precipice  from  which  the  mass  had  fallen,  it  was  clear,  from 
marks  left  in  the  soil  resembling  those  made  by  the  drill  of  the 
rock-blaster,  that  stakes  similar  to  those  we  saw  standing  had 
been  inserted,  at  not  more  than  a  yard  apart,  for  the  length  of 
perhaps  three  hundred  feet,  and  ranging  at  about  ten  feet  back 
from  the  edge  of  the  gulf.  Strong  cords  of  grape  vine  were  at- 
tached to  the  stakes  still  remaining  on  the  hill,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  such  cords  had  also  been  attached  to  each  of  the  other 
stakes.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  singular  stratification  of 
these  soap-stone  hills  ;  and  the  description  just  given  of  the  nar- 
row and  deep  fissure  through  which  we  effected  our  escape  from 
inhumation  will  afford  a  further  conception  of  its  nature.  This 


162  NARRATIVE  OF 

was  such  that  almost  every  natural  convulsion  would  be  sure  to 
split  the  soil  into  perpendiculai  layers  or  ridges  running  parallel 
with  one  another ;  and  a  very  moderate  exertion  of  art  would  be 
sufficient  for  effecting  the  same  purpose.  Of  this  stratification 
the  savages  had  availed  themselves  to  accomplish  their  treacher- 
ous ends.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  by  the  continuous  line  of 
stakes,  a  partial  rupture  of  the  soil  had  been  brought  about, 
probably  to  the  depth  of  one  or  two  feet,  when,  by  means  of  a 
savage  pulling  at  the  end  of  each  of  the  cords  (these  cords  being 
attached  to  the  tops  of  the  stakes,  and  extending  back  from  the 
edge  of  the  cliff),  a  vast  leverage  power  was  obtained,  capable 
of  hurling  the  whole  face  of  the  hill,  upon  a  given  signal,  into  the 
bosom  of  the  abyss  below.  The  fate  of  our  poor  companions  was 
no  longer  a  matter  of  uncertainty.  We  alone  had  escaped  from 
the  tempest  of  that  overwhelming  destruction.  We  were  the 
i>nly  living  white  men  upon  the  island. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

OUR  situation,  as  it  now  appeared,  was  scarcely  less  dreadful 
than  when  we  had  conceived  ourselves  entombed  forever.  We 
saw  before  us  no  prospect  but  that  of  being  put  to  death  by  the 
savages,  or  of  dragging  out  a  miserable  existence  in  captivity 
among  them.  We  might,  to  be  sure,  conceal  ourselves  for  a 
time  from  their  observation  among  the  fastnesses  of  the  hills, 
and,  as  a  final  resort,  in  the  chasm  from  which  we  had  just 
issued;  but  we  must  either  perish  in  the  long  Polar  winter 
through  cold  and  famine,  or  be  ultimately  discovered  in  our  ef- 
forts to  obtain  relief. 

The  whole  country  around  us  seemed  to  be  swarming  with 
savages,  crowds  of  whom,  we  now  perceived,  had  come  over 
from  the  islands  to  the  southward  on  flat  rafts,  doubtless  with  a 
view  of  lending  their  aid  in  the  capture  and  plunder  of  the  Jane. 
The  vessel  still  lay  calmly  at  anchor  in  the  bay,  those  on  board 
being  apparently  quite  unconscious  of  any  danger  awaiting  them. 
How  we  longed  at  that  moment  to  be  with  them !  either  to  aid 


A.  GORDOIS  PYM  163 

in  effecting  their  escape,  or  to  perish  with  them  in  attempting  a 
defence.  We  saw  no  chance  even  of  warning  them  of  their 
danger  without  bringing  immediate  destruction  upon  our  own 
heads,  with  but  a  remote  hope  of  benefit  to  them.  A  pistol  fired 
might  suffice  to  apprise  them  that  something  wrong  had  occur- 
red;  but  the  report  could  not  possibly  inform  them  that  thei.- 
only  prospect  of.  safety  lay  in  getting  out  of  the  harbor  forth- 
with— it  could  not  tell  them  that  no  principles  of  honor  now 
bound  them  to  remain,  that  their  companions  were  no  longer 
among  the  living.  Upon  hearing  the  discharge  they  could  not 
be  more  thoroughly  prepared  to  meet  the  foe,  who  were  now 
getting  ready  to  attack,  than  they  already  were,  and  always  had 
been.  No  good,  therefore,  and  infinite  harm,  would  result  from 
our  firing,  and,  after  mature  deliberation,  we  forbore. 

Our  next  thought  was  to  attempt  a  rush  towards  the  vessel, 
to  seize  one  of  the  four  canoes  which  lay  at  the  head  of  the  bay, 
and  endeavor  to  force  a  passage  on  board.  But  the  utter  im- 
possibility of  succeeding  in  this  desperate  task  soon  became  evi- 
dent. The  country,  as  I  said  before,  was  literally  swarming 
with  the  natives,  skulking  among  the  bushes  and  recesses  of  the 
hills,  so  as  not  to  be  observed  from  the  schooner.  In  our  imme- 
diate vicinity  especially,  and  blockading  the  sole  path  by  which 
we  could  hope  to  attain  the  shore  in  the  proper  point,  were  sta- 
tioned the  whole  party  of  the  black  skin  warriors,  with  Too-wit 
at  their  head,  and  apparently  only  waiting  for  some  re-enforce- 
ment to  commence  his  onset  upon  the  Jane.  The  canoes,  too, 
which  lay  at  the  head  of  the  bay,  were  manned  with  savages, 
unarmed,  it  is  true,  but  who  undoubtedly  had  arms  within  reach. 
We  were  forced,  therefore,  however  unwillingly,  to  remain  in 
our  place  of  concealment,  mere  spectators  of  the  conflict  which 
presently  ensued. 

In  about  half  an  hour  we  saw  some  sixty  or  seventy  rafts,  or 
flatboats,  with  outriggers,  filled  with  savages,  and  coming  round 
the  southern  bight  of  the  harbor.  They  appeared  to  have  no 
arms  except  short  clubs,  and  stones  which  lay  in  the  bottom  of 
the  rafts.  Immediately  afterward  another  detachment,  still  lar- 
ger, approached  in  an  opposite  direction,  and  with  similar  weapons. 
The  lour  cauoes,  too,  were  now  quickly  filled  with  natives,  start* 


164  NARRATIVE  OF 

ing  up  from  the  bushes  at  the  head  of  the  bay,  and  put  off 
swiftly  to  join  the  other  parties.  Thus,  in  less  time  than  I  have 
taken  to  tell  it,  and  as  if  by  magic,  the  Jane  saw  herself  sur- 
rounded by  an  immense  multitude  of  desperadoes  evidently  bent 
upon  capturing  her  at  all  hazards. 

That  they  would  succeed  in  so  doing  could  not  be  doubted  for 
an  instant.  The  six  men  left  in  the  vessel,  however  resolutely 
they  might  engage  in  her  defence,  were  altogether  unequal  to 
the  proper  management  of  the  gyns,  or  in  any  manner  to  sus- 
tain a  contest  at  such  odds.  I  could  hardly  imagine  that  they 
would  make  resistance  at  all,  but  in  this  was  deceived ;  for 
presently  I  saw  them  get  springs  upon  the  cable,  and  bring  the 
vessel's  starboard  broadside  to  bear  upon  the  canoes,  which  by 
this  time  were  within  pistol  range,  the  rafts  being  nearly  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  to  windward.  Or/ing  to  some  cause  unknown,  but 
most  probably  to  the  agitation  of  our  poor  friends  at  seeing 
themselves  in  so  hopeless  a  situation,  the  discharge  was  an  entire 
failure.  Not  a  canoe  was  hit  or  a  single  savage  injured,  the 
shots  striking  short  and  ricocheting  over  their  heads.  The  only 
effect  produced  upon  them  was  astonishment  at  the  unexpected 
report  and  smoke,  which  wa.5  so  excessive  that  for  some  mo 
ments  I  almost  thought  they  would  abandon  their  design  entirely, 
and  return  to  the  shore.  And  this  they  would  most  likely  have 
done  had  our  men  followed  up  their  broadside  by  a  discharge  of 
small  arms,  in  which,  as  the  canoes  were  now  so  near  at  hand, 
they  could  not  have  failed  in  doing  some  execution,  sufficient,  at 
least,  to  deter  this  party  from  a  farther  advance,  until  they  could 
have  given  the  rafts  also  a  broadside.  But,  in  place  of  this, 
they  left  the  canoe  party  to  recover  from  their  panic,  and,  by 
looking  about  them,  to  see  that  no  injury  had  been  sustained, 
while  they  flew  to  the  larboard  to  get  ready  for  the  rafts. 

The  discharge  to  larboard  produced  the  most  terrible  effect. 
The  star  and  double-headed  shot  of  the  large  guns  cut  seven  or 
eight  of  the  rafts  completely  asunder,  and  killed,  perhaps,  thirty 
or  forty  of  the  savages  outright,  while  a  hundred  of  them,  at 
least,  were  thrown  into  the  water,  the  most  of  them  dreadfully 
wounded.  The  remainder,  frightened  out  of  their  senses,  com- 
menced at  once  a  precipitate  retreat,  not  even  waiting  to  pick 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  165 

np  their  maimed  companions,  who  were  swimming  about  in 
every  direction,  screaming  and  yelling  for  aid.  This  great  suc- 
cess, however,  came  too  late  for  the  salvation  of  our  devoted 
people.  The  canoe  party  were  already  on  board  the  schooner 
to  the  number  of  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty,  the  most  of 
them  having  succeeded  in  scrambling  up  the  chains  and  over 
the  boarding-nettings  even  before  the  matches  had  been  applied 
to  the  larboard  guns.  Nothing  could  now  withstand  their  brute 
rage.  Our  men  were  borne  down  at  once,  overwhelmed,  trod- 
den under  foot,  and  absolutely  torn  to  pieces  in  an  instant. 

Seeing  this,  the  savages  on  the  rafts  got  the  better  of  their 
fears,  and  came  up  in  shoals  to  the  plunder.  In  five  minutes  the 
Jane  was  a  pitiable  scene  indeed  of  havoc  and  tumultuous  out- 
rage. The  decks  were  split  open  and  ripped  up;  the  cordage, 
sails,  and  everything  movable  on  deck  demolished  as  if  by 
magic ;  while,  by  dint  of  pushing  at  the  stern,  towing  with  the 
canoes,  and  hauling  at  the  sides,  as  they  swam  in  thousands 
around  the  vessel,  the  wretches  finally  forced  her  on  shore  (the 
cable  having  been  slipped),  and  delivered  her  over  to  the  good 
orfices  of  Too-wit,  who,  during  the  whole  of  the  engagement,  had 
maintained,  like  a  skilful  general,  his  post  of  security  and  recon- 
noissance  among  the  hills,  but,  now  that  the  victory  was  com- 
pleted to  his  satisfaction,  condescended  to  scamper  down  wit)/ 
his  warriors  of  the  black  skin,  and  become  a  partaker  in  the 
spoils. 

Too-wit's  descent  left  us  at  liberty  to  quit  our  hiding-place 
and  reconnoitre  the  hill  in  the  vicinity  of  the  chasm.  At  about 
fifty  yards  from  the  mouth  of  it  we  saw  a  small  spring  of  water, 
at  which  we  slaked  the  burning  thirst  that  now  consumed  us. 
Not  far  from  the  spring  we  discovered  several  of  the  filbert- 
bushes  which  I  mentioned  before.  Upon  tasting  the  nuts  we 
found  them  palatable,  and  very  nearly  resembling  in  flavor  tin: 
common  English  filbert.  We  collected  our  hats  full  immediately, 
deposited  them  within  the  ravine,  and  returned  for  more.  While 
we  were  busily  employed  in  gathering  these,  a  rustling  in  the 
bushes  alarmed  us,  and  we  were  upon  the  point  of  stealing  back 
to  our  covert,  when  a  large  black  bird  of  the  bittern  species  strug 
glingly  and  slowly  arose  above  the  shrubs.  I  was  so  nauoh 


166  NARRATIVE  OF 

staitled  that  I  could  do  nothing,  but  Peters  had  sufficient  pre- 
sence of  mind  to  run  up  to  it  before  it  could  make  its  escape, 
and  seize  it  by  the  neck.  Its  struggles  and  screams  were  tre- 
mendous, and  we  had  thoughts  of  letting  it  go,  lest  the  noise 
should  alarm  some  of  the  savages  who  might  be  still  lurking  in 
the  neighborhood.  A  stab  with  a  Bowie  knife,  however,  at 
length  brought  it  to  the  ground,  and  we  dragged  it  into  the 
ravine,  congratulating  ourselves  that,  at  all  events,"  we  had  thus 
obtained  a  supply  of  food  enough  to  last  us  for  a  week. 

We  now  went  out  again  to  look  about  us,  and  ventured  a  con- 
siderable distance  down  the  southern  declivity  of  the  hill,  but 
met  with  nothing  else  which  could  serve  us  for  food.  We  there- 
fore collected  a  quantity  of  dry  wood  and  returned,  seeing  one 
or  two  large  parties  of  the  natives  on  their  way  to  the  village, 
laden  with  the  plunder  of  the  vessel,  and  who,  we  were  appre- 
hensive, might  discover  us  in  passing  beneath  the  hill. 

Our  next  care  was  to  render  our  place  of  concealment  'as 
secure  as  possible,  and,  with  this  object,  we  arranged  some  brush- 
wood over  the  aperture  which  I  have  before  spoken  of  as  the 
Dim  through  which  we  saw  the  patch  of  blue  sky,  on  reaching 
the  platform  from  the  interior  of  the  chasm.  We  left  only  a 
very  small  opening,  just  wide  enough  to  admit  of  our  seeing  the 
bay,  without  the  risk  of  being  discovered  from  below.  Having 
done  this,  we  congratulated  ourselves  upon  the  security  of  the 
position ;  for  we  were  now  completely  excluded  from  observa- 
tion, as  long  as  we  chose  to  remain  within  the  ravine  itself,  and 
not  venture  out  upon  the  hill.  We  could  perceive  no  traces  of 
the  savages  having  ever  been  within  this  hollow  ;  but,  indeed, 
when  we  came  to  reflect  upon  the  probability  that  the  lissure 
through  which  we  attained  it  had  been  only  just  now  created  by 
the  fall  of  the  cliff  opposite,  and  that  no  other  way  of  attaining 
it  could  be  perceived,  we  were  not  so  much  rejoiced  at  the 
thought  of  being  secure  from  molestation  as  fearful  lest  there 
ehould  be  absolutely  no  means  left  us  for  descent.  We  resolved 
to  explore*  the  summit  of  the  hill  thoroughly,  when  a  good  op- 
portunity should  offer.  In  the  mean  time  we  watched  the  mo- 
tions of  the  savages  through  our  loophole. 

They  had  already  made  a  complete  wreck   of  the   vessel,  and 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  167 

were  now  preparing  to  set  her  on  fire.  In  a  little  while  we  saw 
the  smoke  ascending  in  huge  volumes  from  her  main-hatchway, 
and,  shortly  afterward,  a  dense  mass  of  flame  burst  up  from  the 
forecastle.  The  rigging,  masts,  and  what  remained  of  the  saiL 
caught  immediately,  and  the  fire  spread  rapidly  along  the  decks 
Still  a  great  many  of  the  savages  retained  their  stations  about 
her,  hammering  with  large  stones,  axes,  and  cannon  balls  at  the 
bolts  and  other  copper  and  iron  work.  On  the  beach,  and  iu 
canoes  and  rafts,  there  were  not  less,  altogether,  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  the  schooner,  than  ten  thousand  natives,  besides 
the  shoals  of  them  who,  laden  with  booty,  were  making  their  way 
inland  and  over  to  the  neighboring  islands.  We  now  anticipated 
a  catastrophe,  and  were  not  disappointed.  First  of  all  there 
came  a  smart  shock  (which  we  felt  distinctly  where  we  were  as 
if  we  had  been  slightly  galvanized),  but  unattended  with  any 
visible  signs  of  an  explosion.  The  savages  were  evidently  start- 
led, and  paused  for  an  instant  from  their  labors  and  veilings. 
They  were  upon  the  point  of  recommencing,  when  suddenly  a 
jnass  of  smoke  puffed  up  from  the  decks,  resembling  a  black  and 
neavy  thunder-cloud — then,  as  if  from  its  bowels,  arose  a  tall 
stream  of  vivid  fire  to  the  height,  apparently,  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile — then  there  came  a  sudden  circular  expansion  of  the 
flame — then  the  whole  atmosphere  was  magically  crowded, 
in  a  single  instant,  with  a  wild  chaos  of  wood,  and  metal,  and  hu 
man  limbs — and,  lastly,  came  the  concussion  in  its  fullest  fury, 
which  hurled  us  impetuously  from  our  feet,  while  the  hills 
echoed  and  re-echoed  the  tumult,  and  a  dense  shower  of  the  mi- 
nutest fragments  of  the  ruins  tumbled  headlong  in  every  direction 
around  us. 

The  havoc  among  the  savages  far  exceeded  our  utmost  expec- 
tation, and  they  had  now,  indeed,  reaped  the  full  and  perfect 
fruits  of  their  treachery.  Perhaps  a  thousand  perished  by  the 
explosion,  while  at  least  an  equal  number  were  desperately 
mangled.  The  whole  surface  of  the  ba^y  was  literally  strewn 
with  the  struggling  and  drowning  wretches,  and  on  shore  matters 
were  even  worse.  They  seemed  utterly  appalled  by  the  sudden- 
ness and  completeness  of  their  discomfiture,  and  made  no  efforts 
ut  assisting  one  another.  A*,  length  we  observed  a  total  change 


168  NARRATIVE   OF 

in  their  demeanor.  From  absolute  stupor,  they  appeared  (o  be, 
all  at  once,  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement,  and 
rushed  wildly  about,  going  to  and  from  a  certain  point  on  th« 
beach,  with  the  strangest  expressions  of  mingled  horror,  rage,  and 
intense  curiosity  depicted  on  their  countenances,  and  shouting,  at 
the  top  of  their  voices,  Tekeli-li  !  Tekeli-li  ! 

Presently  we  saw  a  large  body  go  off  into  the  hills,  whence 
they  returned  in  a  short  time,  carrying  stakes  of  wood.  These 
they  brought  to  the  station  where  the  crowd  was  the  thickest, 
which  now  separated  so  as  to  afford  us  a  view  of  the  object  of  all 
this  excitement.  We  perceived  something  white  lying  upon  the 
ground,  but  could  not  immediately  make  out  what  it  was.  At 
length  we  saw  that  it  was  the  carcass  of  the  strange  animal  with 
the  scarlet  teeth  and  claws  which  the  schooner  had  picked  up  at 
sea  on  the  eighteenth  of  January.  Captain  Guy  had  had  the 
body  preserved  for  the  purpose  of  stuffing  the  skin  and  taking  it 
to  England.  I  remember  he  had  given  some  directions  about  it 
just  before  our  making  the  island,  and  it  had  been  brought  into 
the  cabin  and  stowed  away  in  one  of  the  lockers.  It  had  now 
been  thrown  on  shore  by  the  explosion ;  but  why  it  had  occa- 
sioned so  much  concern  among  the  savages  was  more  than  we 
could  comprehend.  Although  they  crowded  around  the  carcass 
at  a  little  distance,  none  of  them  seemed  willing  to  approach  it 
closely.  By-and-by  the  men  with  the  stakes  drove  them  in  a 
circle  around  it,  and,  no  sooner  was  this  arrangement  completed, 
than  the  whole  of  the  vast  assemblage  rushed  into  the  interior  ot 
the  island,  with  loud  screams  of  Tekeli-li!  Tckeli-li  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

DURING  the  six  or  seven  days  immediately  following  we  re- 
mained in  our  hiding-place  upon  the  hill,  going  out  only  occasion- 
ally, and  then  with  the  greatest  precaution,  for  water  and  filberts., 
We  had  made  a  kind  of  pent-house  on  the  platform,  furnishing  it 
with  a  bed  of  dry  leaves,  and  placing  in  it  three  large  flat  stones. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  169 

which  served  us  for  both  fire-place  and  table.  We  kindled  a 
fire  without  difficulty  by  rubbing  two  pieces  of  dry  wood  together 
the  one  soft,  the  other  hard.  The  bird  we  had  taken  in  such 
good  season  proved  excellent  eating,  although  somewhat  tough. 
It  was  not  an  oceanic  fowl,  but  a  species  of  bittern,  with  jet  black 
and  grizzly  plumage,  and  diminutive  wings  in  proportion  to  its 
bulk.  We  afterward  saw  three  of  the  same  kind  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  ravine,  apparently  seeking  for  the  one  we  had  captured  ; 
but,  as  they  never  alighted,  we  had  no  opportunity  of  uatching 
them. 

As  long  as  this  fowl  lasted  we  suffered  nothing  from  our  situa- 
tion but  it  was  now  entirely  consumed,  and  it  became  absolutely 
necessary  that  we  should  look  out  for  provision.  The  filberts 
would  not  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger,  afflicting  us,  too,  with 
severe  gripings  of  the  bowels,  and,  if  freely  indulged  in,  with 
violent  headache.  We  had  seen  several  large  tortoises  near  the 
seashore  to  the  eastward  of  the  hill,  and  perceived  they  might  be 
easily  taken,  if  we  could  get  at  them  without  the  observation  of 
the  natives.  It  was  resolved,  therefore,  to  make  an  attempt  at 
descending. 

We  commenced  by  going  down  the  southern  declivity,  which 
seemed  to  offer  the  fewest  difficulties,  but  had  not  proceeded  a 
hundred  yards  before(as  we  had  anticipated  from  appearance.s  on 
the  hill-top)  our  progress  was  entirely  arrested  by  a  branch  of 
the  gorge  in  which  our  companions  had  perished.  We  now 
passed  along  the  edge  of  this  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  when 
we  were  again  stopped  by  a  precipice  of  immense  depth,  and,  not 
being  able  to  make  our  way  along  the  brink  of  it,  we  were  forced 
to  retrace  our  steps  by  the  main  ravine. 

We  now  pushed  over  to  the  eastward,  but,  with  precisely  simi- 
lar fortune.  After  an  hour's  scramble,  at  the  risk  of  breaking 
our  necks,  we  discovered  that  we  had  merely  descended  into  a 
vast  pit  of  black  granite,  with  fine  dust  at  the  bottom,  and  whence 
the  only  egress  was  by  the  rugged  path  in  which  we  had  come 
down.  Toiling  again  up  this  path,  we  now  tried  the  northern 
edge  of  the  hill.  Here  we  were  obliged  to  use  the  greatest  pos- 
sible caution  in  our  manoeuvres,  as  the  Jeast  indiscretion  would 
expose  us  to  the  full  view  of  the  savages  in  the  village.  We 


170  NARRATIVE  OF 

crawled  along,  therefore,  on  our  hands  and  knees,  and,  occasion, 
ally,  were  even  forced  to  throw  ourselves  at  full  length,  dragging 
our  bodies  along  by  means  of  the  shrubbery.  In  this  careful 
manner  we  had  proceeded  but  a  little  way,  when  we  arrived  at  a 
chasm  far  deeper  than  any  we  had  yet  seen,  and  leading  directly 
into  the  main  gorge.  Thus  our  fears  were  fully  confirmed,  and 
we  found  ourselves  cut  off  entirely  from  access  to  the  world  be- 
low. Thoroughly  exhausted  by  our  exertions,  we  made  the  best 
of  our  way  back  to  the  platform,  and,  throwing  ourselves  upon 
the  bed  of  leave?,  slept  sweetly  and  soundly  for  some  hours. 

For  several  days  after  this  fruitless  search  we  were  occupied 
in  exploring  every  part  of  the  summit  of  the  hill,  in  order  to  in- 
form ourselves  of  its  actual  resources.  We  found  that  it  would 
afford  us  no  food,  with  the  exception  of  the  unwholesome  filberts, 
and  a  rank  species  of  scurvy  grass  which  grew  in  a  little  patch 
of  not  more  than  four  rods  square,  and  would  be  soon  exhausted. 
On  the  fifteenth  of  February,  as  near  as  I  can  remember,  there 
was  not  a  blade  of  this  left,  and  the  nuts  were  growing  scarce ; 
our  situation,  therefore,  could  hardly  be  more  lamentable.*  On 
the  sixteenth  we  again  went  round  the  walls  of  our  prison,  in 
hope  of  finding  some  avenue  of  escape  ;  but  to  no  purpose.  We 
also  descended  the  chasm  in  which  we  had  been  overwhelmed, 
with  the  faint  expectation  of  discovering,  through  this  channel, 
some  opening  to  the  main  ravine.  Here,  too,  we  were  disap- 
pointed, although  we  found  and  brought  up  with  us  a  musket. 

On  the  seventeenth  we  set  out  with  the  determination  of  ex- 
amining more  thoroughly  the  chasm  of  black  granite  into  which 
we  had  made  our  way  in  the  first  search.  We  remembered  that 
one  of  the  fissures  in  the  sides  of  this  pit  had  been  but  partially 
looked  into,  and  we  were  anxious  to  explore  it,  although  with  no 
expectation  of  discovering  here  any  opening. 

We  found  no  great  difficulty  in  reaching  the  bottom  of  the 
hollow  as  before,  and  were  now  sufficiently  calm  to  survey  it 
with  some  attention.  It  was,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  singular 
looking  places  imaginable,  and  we  could  scarcely  bring  ourselves 
10  believe  it  altogether  the  work  of  nature.  The  pit,  from  its 

*  This  day  was  rendered  remarkable  by  our  observing  in  the  south  severa' 
huire  wreaths  of  the  grayish  vapor  I  have  before  spoken  of 


A.  GORDON  PVM  171 

eastern  to  its  western  extremity,  was  about  five  hundred  yards  in 
length,  when  all  its  windings  were  threaded ;  the  distance  from 
east  to  west  in  a  straight  line  not  being  more  (I  should  suppose, 
having  no  means  of  accurate  examination)  than  forty  or  fifty 
yards.  Upon  first  descending  into  the  chasm,  that  is  to  say,  for 
a  hundred  feet  downward  from  the  summit  of  the  hill,  the  sides 
of  the  aby*s  bore  little  resemblance  to  each  other,  and,  apparently, 
had  at  no  time  been  connected,  the  one  surface  being  of  the  soap- 
stone,  and  the  other  of  marl,  granulated  with  some  metallic  mat 
ter.  The  average  breadth,  or  interval  between  the  two  cliffs, 
was  probably  here  sixty  feet,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  regular- 
ity of  formation.  Passing  down,  however,  beyond  the  limit 
spoken  of,  the  interval  rapidly  contracted,  and  the  sides  began  to 
run  parallel,  although  for  some  distance  farther,  they  were  still 
dissimilar  in  their  material  and  form  of  surface.  Upon  arriving 
within  fifty  feet  of  the  bottom,  a  perfect  regularity  commenced. 
The  sides  were  now  entirely  uniform  in  substance,  in  color,  and 
in  lateral  direction,  the  material  being  a  very  black  and  shining 
granite,  and  the  distance  between  the  two  sides,  at  all  points,  fa- 
cing each  other,  exactly  twenty  yards.  The  precise  formation 
of  the  chasm  will  be  best  understood  by  means  of  a  delineation 
taken  upon  the  spot ;  for  I  had  luckily  with  me  a  pocket-book  and  . 
pencil,  which  I  preserved  with  great  care  through  a  long  series 
of  subsequent  adventure,  and  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  memo- 
randa of  many  subjects  which  would  otherwise  have  been  crowd- 
ed from  my  remembrance. 

Figure  1. 


172  NARRATIVE  OF 

This  figure  (see  figure  1)  gives  the  general  outlines  of  the 
chasm,  without  the  minor  cavities  in  the  sides,  of  which  there 
were  several,  each  cavity  having  a  corresponding  protuberance 
opposite.  The  bottom  of  the  gulf  was  covered  to  the  depth  of 
three  or  four  inches  with  a  powder  almost  impalpable,  beneath 
which  we  found  a  continuation  of  the  black  granite.  To  the 
right,  at  the  lower  extremity,  will  be  noticed  the  appearance  of  a 
small  opening ;  this  is  the  fissure  alluded  to  above,  and  to  exam- 
ine which  more  minutely  than  before  was  the  object  of  our  second 
visit.  We  now  pushed  into  it  with  vigor,  cutting  away  a  quantity 
of  brambles  which  impeded  us,  and  removing  a  vast  heap  of  sharp 
flints  somewhat  resembling  arrowheads  in  shape.  We  were  en- 
couraged to  persevere,  however,  by  perceiving  some  little  light 
proceeding  from  the  farther  end.  We  at  length  squeezed  our 
way  for  about  thirty  feet,  and  found  that  the  aperture  was  a  low 
and  regularly-formed  arch,  having  a  bottom  of  the  same  impalpa- 
ble powder  as  that  in  the  main  chasm.  A  strong  light  now  broke 
upon  us,  and,  turning  a  short  bend,  we  found  ourselves  in  an- 
other lofty  chamber,  similar  to  the  one  we  had  left  in  every 
respect  but  longitudinal  form.  Its  general  figure  is  here  given. 
fSee  figure  2.) 

Figure  2. 


The  total  length  of  this  chasm,  commencing  at  the  opening  a 
and  proceeding  round  the  curve  b  to  the  extremity  d,  is  five  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards.  At  c  we  discovered  a  small  aperture  simi- 
Itii  'o  the  one  through  which  we  had  issued  from  the  other  chasm, 


A.  GORDON  PYM. 


173 


and  this  was  choked  up  in  the  same  manner  with  brambles  and  a 
quantity  of  the  white  arrowhead  flints.  We  forced  our  way 
through  it,  finding  it  about  forty  feet  long,  and  emerged  into  a 
third  chasm.  This,  too,  -was  precisely  like  the  first,  except  in  iU 
longitudinal  shape,  which  was  thus.  (See  figure  3.) 


Figure  3. 


Figure  5. 


We  found  the  entire  length  of  the  third  chasm  throe  hundred 
and  twenty  yards.  At  the  point  a  was  an  opening  about  six  feet 
wide,  and  extending  fifteen  feet  into  the  rock,  where  it  termina- 
ted in  a  bed  of  marl,  there  being  no  other  chasm  beyond,  as  we 
had  expected.  We  were  about  leaving  this  fissure,  into  which 
very  little  light  was  admitted,  when  Peters  called  my  attention  to 
a  range  of  singular  looking  indentures  in  the  surface  of  the  marl 
forming  the  termination  of  the  cul-de-sac.  With  a  very  slight 
exertion  of  the  imagination,  the  left,  or  most  northern  of  these  in- 
dentures might  have  been  taken  for  the  intentional,  although 
rude,  representation  of  a  human  figure  standing  erect,  with  out- 
stretched arm.  The  rest  of  them  bore  also  some  little  resemb 
lance  to  alphabetical  characters,  and  Peters  was  willing,  at  all 
events,  to  adopt  the  idle  opinion  that  they  were  really  such.  I 
convinced  him  of  his  error,  finally,  by  directing  his  attention  to 
the  floor  of  the  fissure,  where,  among  the  powder,  \ve  picked  up, 
piece  by  piece,  several  large  flakes  of  the  marl,  which  had  evi- 
dently been  broken  off  by  some  convulsion  from  the  surface 
where  the  indentures  were  found,  and  which  had  projecting 
points  exactly  fitting  the  indentures ;  thus  proving  them  to  have 
been  the  work  of  nature.  Figure  4,  presents  an  accurate  copy 
of  the 


174  NARRATIVE  OF 

Figure  4. 


After  satisfying  ourselves  that  these  singular  caverns  afforded 
us  no  means  of  escape  from  our  prison,  we  made  our  way  back, 
dejected  and  dispirited,  to  the  summit  of  the  hill.  Nothing  worth 
mentioning  occurred  during  the  next  twenty-four. hours,  except 
that,  in  examining  the  ground  to  the  eastward  of  the  third  chasm, 
we  found  two  triangular  holes  of  great  depth,  and  also  with 
black  granite  sides.  Into  these  holes  we  did  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  attempt  descending,  as  they  had  the  appearance  of  mera 
natural  wells,  without  outlet.  They  were  each  about  twenty 
yards  in  circumference,  and  their  shape,  as  well  as  relative  posi- 
tion in  regard  to  the  third  chasm,  is  shown  in  figure  5,  preceding 
page. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

ON  the  twentieth  of  the  month,  finding  it  altogether  impossi- 
ble to  subsist  any  longer  upon  the  filberts,  the  use  of  which 
occasioned  us  the  most  excruciating  torment,  we  resolved  to  make 
a  desperate  attempt  at  descending  the  southern  declivity  of  the. 
hill.  The  face  of  the  precipice  was  here  of  the  softest  species  of 
soapstone,  although  nearly  perpendicular  throughout  its  whole 
extent  (a  depth  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  at  the  least),  and  in 
many  places  even  overarching.  After  long  search  we  discovered 
a  narrow  ledge  about  twenty  feet  below  the  brink  of  the  gulf; 
upon  this  Peters  contrived  to  leap,  with  what  assistance  I  could 
render  him  by  means  of  our  pocket-handkerchiefs  tied  together 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  175 

With  somewhat  more  difficulty  I  also  got  down ;  and  wo  then 
saw  the  possibility  of  descending  the  whole  way  by  the  process 
in  which  we  had  clambered  up  from  the  chasm  when  we  had 
been  buried  by  the  fall  of  the  hill — that  is,  by  cutting  steps  in 
the  face  of  the  soapstone  with  our  knives.  The  extreme  haxard 
of  the  attempt  can  scarcely  be  conceived  ;  but,  us  there  was  no 
other  resource,  we  determined  to  undertake  it. 

Upon  the  ledge  where  we  stood  there  grew  some  filbert-bushes ; 
and  to  one  of  these  we  made  fast  an  end  of  our  rope  of  handker- 
chiefs. The  other  end  being  tied  round  Peters's  waist,  I  lowered 
him  down  over  the  edge  of  the  precipice  until  the  handkerchiefs 
were  stretched  tight.  He  now  proceeded  to  dig  a  deep  hole  in 
the  soapstone  (as  far  in  as  eight  or  ten  inches),  sloping  away 
the  rock  above  to  the  height  of  a  foot,  or  thereabout,  so  as  to 
allow  of  his  driving,  with  the  butt  of  a  pistol,  a  tolerably  strong 
peg  into  the  levelled  surface.  I  then  drew  him  up  for  about 
four  feet,  when  he  made  a  hole  similar  to  the  one  below,  driving 
iu  a  peg  as  before,  and  having  thus  a  resting-place  for  both  feet 
and  hands.  I  now  unfastened  the  handkerchiefs  from  the  bush, 
throwing  him  the  end,  which  he  tied  to  the  peg  in  the  uppermost 
hole,  letting  himself  down  gently  to  a  station  about  three  feet 
lower  than  he  had  yet  been,  that  is,  to  the  full  extent  of  the 
handkerchiefs.  Here  he  dug  another  hole,  and  drove  another 
peg.  He  then  drew  himself  "up,  so  as  to  rest  his  feet  in  the 
hole  just  cut,  taking  hold  with  his  hands  upon  the  peg  in  the  one 
above.  It  was  now  necessary  to  untie  the  handkerchiefs  from 
the  topmost  peg,  with  the  view  of  fastening  them  to  the  second ; 
and  here  he  found  that  an  error  had  been  committed  in  cutting 
the  holes  at  so  great  a  distance  apart.  However,  after  one  or 
two  unsuccessful  and  dangerous  attempts  at  reaching  the  knot 
(having  to  hold  on  with  his  left  hand  while  he  labored  to  undo 
the  fastening  with  his  right),  he  at  length  cut  the  string,  leaving 
six  inches  of  it  affixed  to  the  peg.  Tying  the  handkerchiefs 
now  to  the  second  peg,  he  descended  to  a  station  below  the  third, 
taking  care  not  to  go  too  far  down.  By  these  means  (means 
which  I  should  never  have  conceived  of  myself,  and  for  which 
we  were  indebted  altogether  to  Peters's  ingenuity  and  resolution) 


176  NARRATIVE  OF 

my  companion  finally  succeeded,  with  the  occasional  aid  of  pro- 
jections in  the  cliflf,  in  reaching  the  bottom  Avithout  accident. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  could  summon  sufficient  resolution 
to  follow  him ;  but  I  did  at  length  attempt  it.  Peters  had  taken 
off  his  shirt  before  descending,  and  this,  with  my  own,  formed 
the  rope  necessary  for  the  adventure.  After  throwing  down  the 
musket  found  in  the  chasm,  I  fastened  this  rope  to  the  bushes, 
and  let  myself  down  rapidly,  striving,  by  the  vigor  of  my  move- 
ments, to  banish  the  trepidation  which  I  could  overcome  in  no 
other  manner.  This  answered  sufficiently  well  for  the  first  four 
or  five  steps  ;  but  presently  I  found  my  imagination  growing  ter- 
ribly excited  by  thoughts  of  the  vast  depth  yet  to  be  descended, 
and  the  precarious  nature  of  the  pegs  and  soapstone  holes  which 
were  my  only  support.  It  was  in  vain  I  endeavored  to  banish 
these  reflections,  and  to  keep  my  eyes  steadily  bent  upon  th^ 
.flat  surface  of  the  cliff  before  me.  The  more  earnestly  I  Strug 
gled  not  to  think,  the  more  intensely  vivid  became  my  concep- 
tions, and  the  more  horribly  distinct.  At  length  arrived  that 
crisis  of  fancy,  so  fearful  in  all  similar  cases,  the  crisis  in  which 
we  begin  to  anticipate  the  feelings  with  which  we  shall  fall — to 
picture  to  ourselves  the  sickness,  and  dizziness,  and  the  last 
struggle,  and  the  half  swoon,  and  the  final  bitterness  of  the  rush- 
ing and  headlong  descent.  And  now  I  found  these  fancies  crea- 
ting their  own  realities,  and  all  imagined  horrors  crowding  upon 
me  in  fact.  I  felt  my  knees  strike  violently  together,  while  my 
fingers  were  gradually  yet  certainly  relaxing  their  grasp.  There 
was  a  ringing  in  my  ears,  and  I  said,  "  This  is  my  knell  of 
death !"  And  now  1  was  consumed  with  the  irrepressible  desire 
of  looking  below.  I  could  not,  I  would  not,  confine  my  glances 
to  the  cliff;  and,  with  a  wild,  indefinable  emotion,  half  of  horror, 
half  of  a  relieved  oppression,  I  threw  my  vision  far  down  into 
the  abyss.  For  one  moment  my  fingers  clutched  convulsively 
upon  their  hold,  while,  with  the  movement,  the  faintest  possible 
idea  of  ultimate  escape  wandered,  like  a  shadow,  through  my 
mind — in  the  next  my  whole  soul  was  pervaded  with  a  longing 
to  fall ;  a  desire,  a  yearning,  a  passion  utterly  uncontrollable.  I. 
let  go  at  once  my  grasp  upon  the  peg,  and,  turning  half  round 
from  the  precipice,  remained  tottering  for  an  instant  against  its 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  177 

naked  face.  But  now  there  came  a  spinning  of  the  brain ;  a 
shrill-sounding  and  phantom  voice  screamed  within  my  ears ;  a 
dusky,  fiendish,  and  filmy  figure  stood  immediately  beneath  me; 
and.  sighing,  I  sunk  down  with  a  bursting  heart,  and  plunged 
within  its  arms. 

I  had  swooned,  and  Peters  had  caught  me  as  I  fell.  He  had 
observed  my  proceedings  from  his  station  at  the  bottom  of  the 
cliff";  and  perceiving  my  imminent  danger,  had  endeavored  to 
inspire  me  with  courage  by  every  suggestion  he  could  devise; 
although  my  confusion  of  mind  had  been  so  great  as  to  preveni 
my  hearing  what  he  said,  or  being  conscious  that  he  had  even 
spoken  to  me  at  all.  At  length,  seeing  me  totter,  he  hastened  to 
ascend  to  my  rescue,  and  arrived  just  in  time  for  my  preserva- 
tion. Had  I  fallen  with  my  full  weight,  the  rope  of  linen  would 
inevitably  have  snapped,  and  I  should  have  been  precipitated 
into  the  abyss  ;  as  it  was,  he  contrived  to  let  me  down  gently, 
so  as  to  remain  suspended  without  danger  until  animation  re- 
turned. This  was  in  about  fifteen  minutes.  On  recovery,  my 
trepidation  had  entirely  vanished  ;  I  felt  a  new  being,  and,  with 
some  little  further  aid  from  my  companion,  reached  the  bottom 
also  in  safety. 

We  now  found  ourselves  not  far  from  the  ravine  which  had 
proved  the  tomb  of  our  friends,  and  to  the  southward  of  the  spot 
where  the  hill  had  fallen.  The  place  was  one  of  singular  wild- 
ness,  and  its  aspect  brought  to  my  mind  the  descriptions  given  by 
travellers  of  those  dreary  regions  marking  the  site  of  degraded 
Babylon.  Not  to  speak  of  the  ruins  of  the  disruptured  cliff, 
which  formed  a  chaotic  barrier  in  the  vista  to  the  northward,  the 
surface  of  the  ground  in  every  other  direction  was  strewn  with 
huge  tumuli,  apparently  the  wreck  of  some  gigantic  structures 
of  art ;  although,  in  detail,  no  semblance  of  art  could  be  de- 
tected. Scoria  were  abundant,  and  large  shapeless  blocks  of  the 
black  granite,  intermingled  with  others  of  marl,*  and  both 
granulated  with  metal.  Of  vegetation  there  were  no  traces 
whatsoever  throughout  the  whole  of  the  desolate  area  within 
sight.  Several  immense  scorpions  were  seen,  and  various  rep- 
tiles not  elsewhere  to  be  found  in  the  high  latitudes. 

*  The   marl  was   also  black  ;  indeed,   we   noticed   no  light-colored  suit- 
ilances  of  any  kind  upon  the  island. 


178  NARRATIVE  OF 

As  food  was  our  most  immediate  object,  we  resolved  to  make 
our  way  to  the  sea-coast,  distant  not  more  than  half  a  mile,  with 
a  view  of  catching  turtle,  several  of  which  we  had  observed  from 
our  place  of  concealment  on  the  hill.  We  had  proceeded  some 
hundred  yards,  threading  our  route  cautiously  between  the  huge 
rocks  and  tumuli,  when,  upon  turning  a  corner,  five  savages 
eprung  upon  us  from  a  small  cavern,  felling  Peters  to  the  ground 
with  a  blow  from  a  club.  As  he  fell  the  whole  party  rushed  up- 
on him  to  secure  their  victim,  leaving  me  time  to  recover  from 
my  astonishment.  I  still  had  the  musket,  but  the  barrel  had 
received  so  much  injury  in  being  thrown  from  the  precipice  that 
I  cast  it  aside  as  useless,  preferring  to  trust  my  pistols,  which  had 
been  carefully  preserved  in  order.  With  these  I  advanced  upon 
the  assailants,  firing  one  after  the  other  in  quick  succession.  Two 
savages  fell,  and  one,  who  was  in  the  act  of  thrusting  a  spear 
into  Peters,  sprung  to  his  feet  without  accomplishing  his  purpose. 
My  companion  being  thus  released,  we  had  no  further  difficulty. 
He  had  his  pistols  also,  but  prudently  declined  using  them,  confi- 
ding in  his  great  personal  strength,  which  far  exceeded  that  of 
any  person  I  have  ever  known.  Seizing  a  club  from  one  of  the 
savages  who  had  fallen,  he  dashed  out  the  brains  of  the  three  who 
remained,  killing  each  instantaneously  with  a  single  blow  of  the 
weapon,  and  leaving  us  completely  masters  of  the  field. 

So  rapidly  had  these  events  passed,  that  we  could  scarcely  be 
lieve  in  their  reality,  and  were  standing  over  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  in  a  species  of  stupid  contemplation,  when  we  were  brought 
to  recollection  by  the  sound  of  shouts  in  the  distance.  It  was  clear 
that  the  savages  had  been  alarmed  by  the  firing,  and  that  we  had 
little  chance  of  avoiding  discovery.  To  regain  the  cliff,  it  would 
be  necessary  to  proceed  in  the  direction  of  the  shouts ;  and  even 
should  we  succeed  in  arriving  at  its  base,  we  should  never  be 
able  to  ascend  it  without  being  seen.  Our  situation  was  one  of 
the  greatest  peril,  and  we  were  hesitating  in  which  path  to  com- 
mence a  flight,  when  one  of  the  savages  whom  I  had  shot,  and 
bupposed  dead,  sprang  briskly  to  his  feet,  and  attempted  to  make 
his  escape.  We  overtook  him,  however,  before  he  had  advanced 
many  paces,  and  were  about  to  put  him  to  death,  when  Peters 
suggested  that  we  might  derive  some  benefit  from  forcing  him  to 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  179 

accompany  us  in  our  attempt  at  escape.  We  therefore  dragged 
him  with  us,  making  him  understand  that  we  would  shoot  him  if 
he  offered  resistance.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  perfectly  sub- 
missive, and  ran  by  our  sides  as  we  pushed  in  among  the  rocks, 
making  for  the  sea-shore. 

So  far,  the  irregularities  of  the  ground  we  had  been  traversing 
hid  the  sea,  except  at  intervals,  from  our  sight,  and,  when  we 
first  had  it  fairly  in  view,  it  was,  perhaps,  two  hundred  yards 
distant.  As  we  emerged  into  the  open  beach  we  saw,  to  our 
great  dismay,  an  immense  crowd  of  the  natives  pouring  from 
the  village,  and  from  all  visible  quarters  of  the  island,  making 
towards  us  with  gesticulations  of  extreme  fury,  and  howling  like 
wild  beasts.  We  were  upon  the  point  of  turning  upon  our  steps, 
and  trying  to  secure  a  retreat  among  the  fastnesses  of  the  rougher 
ground,  when  I  discovered  the  bows  of  two  canoes  projecting 
from  behind  a  large  rock  which  ran  out  into  the  water.  Towards 
these  we  now  ran  with  all  speed,  and,  reaching  them,  found  them 
unguarded,  and  without  any  other  freight  than  three  of  the  large 
Gallipago  turtles  and  the  usual  supply  of  paddles  for  sixty  rowers. 
We  instantly  took  possession  of  one  of  them,  and,  forcing  our 
captive  on  board,  pushed  out  to  sea  with  all  the  strength  we  could 
command, 

We  had  not  made,  however,  more  than  fifty  yards  from  the 
shore  before  we  became  sufficiently  calm  to  perceive  the  great 
oversight  of  which  we  had  been  guilty  in  leaving  the  other  canoe 
in  the  power  of  the  savages,  who,  by  this  time,  were  not  more 
than  twice  as  far  from  the  beach  as  ourselves,  and  were  rapidly 
advancing  to  the  pursuit.  No  time  was  now  to  be  lost.  Our 
hope  was,  at  best,  a  forlorn  one,  but  we  had  none  other.  It  was 
very  doubtful  whether,  with  the  utmost  exertion,  we  could  get 
back  in  time  to  anticipate  them  in  taking  possession  of  the  canoe ; 
but  yet  there  was  a  chance  that  we  could.  We  might  save  our- 
selves if  we  succeeded,  while  not  to  make,  the  attempt  was  to  re- 
sign ourselves  to  inevitable  butchery. 

The  canoe  was  modelled  with  the  bow  and  stern  alike,  and,  in 
place  of  turning  it  around,  \\  e  merely  changed  our  position  in 
paddling.  As  soon  as  the  savages  perceived  this  they  redoubled 
tbe»r  yells,  as  well  as  their  spe^d,  and  approached  with  incon- 


180  NARRATIVE  OF 

ceivflble  rapidity.  We  pulled,  however,  with  all  the  energy  of 
desperation,  and  arrived,  at  the  contested  point  before  more  than 
one  of  the  natives  had  attained  it.  This  man  paid  dearly  for  hn 
superior  agility,  Peters  shooting  him  through  the  head  with  a 
pistol  as  he  approached  the  shore.  The  foremost  among  the  rest 
of  his  party  wre  probably  some  twenty  or  thirty  paces  distant 
as  we  seized  upon  the  canoe.  We  at  first  endeavored  to  pull  her 
into  the  deep  water,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  savages,  but,  finding 
her  too  firmly  aground,  and  there  being  no  time  to  spare,  Peters, 
with  one  or  two  heavy  strokes  from  the  butt  of  the  musket,  suc- 
ceeded in  dashing  out  a  large  portion  of  the  bow  and  of  one  side. 
We  then  pushed  off.  Two  of  the  natives  by  this  time  had  got 
hold  of  our  boat,  obstinately  refusing  to  let  go,  until  we  were 
forced  to  despatch  them  with  our  knives.  We  were  now  clear 
off,  and  making  great  way  out  to  sea.  The  main  body  of  the 
savages,  upon  reaching  the  broken  canoe,  set  up  the  most  tre- 
mendous yell  of  rage  and  disappointment  conceivable.  In  truth, 
from  everything  I  could  see  of  these  wretches,  they  appeared  to 
be  the  most  wicked,  hypocritical,  vindictive,  bloodthirsty,  and 
altogether  fiendish  race  of  men  upon  the  face  of  the  globe.  It  is 
clear  we  should  have  had  no  mercy  had  we  fallen  into  their  hands. 
They  made  a  mad  attempt  at  following  us  in  the  fractured  canoe, 
but,  finding  it  useless,  again  vented  their  rage  in  a  series  of 
hi'leous  vociferations,  and  rushed  up  into  the  hills. 

We  were  thus  relieved  from  immediate  danger,  but  our  situa- 
'ion  was  still  sufficiently  gloomy.  We  knew  that  four  canoes  of 
the  kind  we  had  were  at  one  time  in  the  possession  of  the  sava- 
ges, and  were  not  aware  of  the  fact  (afterward  ascertained  from 
our  captive)  that  two  of  these  had  been  blown  to  pieces  in  the 
explosion  of  the  Jane  Guy.  We  calculated,  therefore,  upon 
being  yet  pursued,  as  soon  as  our  enemies  could  get  round  to  the 
bay  (distant  about  three  miles)  where  the  boats  were  usually  laid 
up.  Fearing  this,  we  made  every  exertion  to  leave  the  island 
behind  us,  and  went  rapidly  through  the  water,  forcing  the  prison- 
er to  take,  a  paddle.  In  about  half  an  hour,  when  we  had  gained 
probably,  five  or  six  miles  to  the  southward,  a  large  fleet  of  the 
flut-bottomed  canoes  or  rafts  were  seen  to  emerge  from  the  bay, 
evidently  with  the  design  of  pursuit.  Presently  they  put  back, 
g  to  overtake  us. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  181 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

WE  now  found  ourselves  in  the  wide  and  desolate  Antarctic 
Ocean,  in  a  latitude  exceeding  eighty-four  degrees,  in  a  frail  ca- 
noe, and  with  no  provision  but  the  three  turtles.  The  long  Polar 
winter,  too,  could  not  be  considered  as  far  distant,  and  it  became 
necessary  that  we  should  deliberate  well  upon  the  course  to  be 
pursued.  There  were  six  or  seven  islands  in  sight  belonging  to 
the  same  group,  and  distant  from  each  other  about  five  or  six 
leagues  ;  but  upon  neither  of  these  had  we  any  intention  to  ven- 
ture. In  coming  from  the  northward  in  the  Jane  Guy  we  had 
been  gradually  leaving  behind  us  the  severest  regions  of  ice — this, 
however  little  it  may  be  in  accordance  with  the  generally  received 
notions  respecting  the  Antarctic,  was  a  fact  experience  would  not 
permit  us  to  deny.  To  attempt,  therefore,  getting  back,  would 
be  folly — especially  at  so  late  a  period  of  the  season.  Only  one 
course  seemed  to  be  left  open  for  hope.  We  resolved  to  steer 
boldly  to  the  southward,  where  there  was  at  least  a  probability  of 
discovering  other  lands,  and  more  than  a  probability  of  finding 
a  still  milder  climate. 

So  far  we  had  found  the  Antarctic,  like  the  Arctic  Ocean,  pe- 
culiarly free  from  violent  storms  or  immoderately  rough  water ; 
but  our  canoe  was,  at  best,  of  frail  structure,  although  large,  and 
we  set  busily  to  work  with  a  view  of  rendering  her  as  safe  as  the 
limited  means  in  our  possession  would  admit.  The  body  of  the 
boat  was  of  no  better  material  than  bark — the  bark  of  a  tree  un- 
known. The  ribs  were  of  a  tough  osier,  well  adapted  to  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  was  used.  We  had  fifty  feet  room  from  stem 
to  stern,  from  four  to  six  in  breadth,  and  in  depth  throughout  four 
feet  and  a  half — the  boats  thus  differing  vastly  in  shape  from 
those  of  any  other  inhabitants  of  the  Southern  Ocean  with  whom 
civilized  nations  are  acquainted.  We  never  did  believe  them  the 
workmanship  of  the  ignorant  islanders  who  owned  them ;  and 
some  days  afer  this  period  discovered,  by  questioning  our  captive, 
that  '•.hey  were  in  fact  made  by  the  natives  of  a  group  to  tha 


182  NARRATIVE  OF 

southwest  of  the  country  where  we  found  them,  having  fallen  ac- 
cidentally into  the  hands  of  our  barbarians.  What  we  could  do 
for  the  security  of  our  boat  was  very  little  indeed.  Several  wide 
rents  were  discovered  near  both  ends,  and  these  we  contrived  to 
patch  up  with  pieces  of  woollen  jacket.  With  the  help  of  the 
superfluous  paddles,  of  which  there  were  a  great  many,  we  erected 
&  kind  of  framework  about  the  bow,  so  as  to  break  the  force  of 
any  seas  which  might  threaten  to  fill  us  in  that  quarter.  We 
also  set  up  two  paddle-blades  for  masts,  placing  them  opposite 
each  other,  one  by  each  gunwale,  thus  saving  the  necessity  of  a 
yard.  To  these  masts  we  attached  a  sail  made  of  our  shirts — 
doing  this  with  some  difficulty,  as  here  we  could  get  no  assist- 
ance from  our  prisoner  whatever,  although  he  had  been  willing 
enough  to  labor  in  all  the  other  operations.  The  sight  of  the 
linen  seemed  to  affect  him  in  a  very  singular  manner.  He  could 
not  be  prevailed  upon  to  touch  it  or  go  near  it,  shuddering  when 
we  attempted  to  force  him,  and  shrieking  out  Tekeli-li. 

Having  completed  our  arrangements  in  regard  to  the  security 
of  the  canoe,  we  now  set  sail  to  the  south  southeast  for  the  pres- 
ent, with  the  view  of  weathering  the  most  southerly  of  the  group 
in  sight.  This  being  done,  we  turned  the  bow  full  to  the  south- 
ward. The  weather  could  by  no  means  be  considered  disagreea 
ble.  We  had  a  prevailing  and  very  gentle  wind  from  the  north- 
ward, a  smooth  sea,  and  continual  daylight.  No  ice  whatever 
was  to  be  seen ;  nor  did  I  ever  see  one  particle  of  this  after  leaving 
the  parallel  of  Bennetfs  Islet.  Indeed,  the  temperature  of  the 
water  was  here  far  too  warm  for  its  existence  in  any  quantity. 
Having  killed  the  largest  of  our  tortoises,  and  obtained  from  him 
not  only  food,  but  a  copious  supply  of  water,  we  continued  on  our 
course,  without  any  incident  of  moment,  for  peihaps  seven  or 
eight  days,  during  which  period  we  must  have  proceeded  a  vast 
distance  to  the  southward,  as  the  w»nd  blew  constantly  with  us, 
and  a  very  strong  current  set  continually  in  the  direction  we  were 
pursuing. 

March  1.*     Many  unusual  phenomena  now  indicated  that  we 

*  For  obvious  reasons  I  cannot  pretend  to  strict  accuracy  in  these  dates 
They  are  given  principally  with  a  view  to  perspicuity  of  narration,  and  ai 
»ot  down  in  my  pencil  memoranda. 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  183 

h'ere  entering  upon  a  region  of  novelty  and  wonder.  A  high 
range  of  light  gray  vapor  appeared  constantly  in  the  southern 
horizon,  flaring  up  occasionally  in  lofty  streaks,  now  darting  from 
east  to  west,  now  from  west  to  east,  and  again  presenting  a  level 
arid  uniform  summit — in  short,  having  all  the  wild  variations  of 
the  Aurora  Borealis.  The  average  height  of  this  vapor,  as  ap- 
parent from  our  station,  was  about  twenty-five  degrees.  The 
temperature  of  the  sea  seemed  to  be  increasing  momentarily,  and 
there  was  a  very  perceptible  alteration  in  its  color. 

March  2.  To-day,  by  repeated  questioning  of  our  captive,  we 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  many  particulars  in  regard  to  the 
island  of  the  massacre,  its  inhabitants,  and  customs — but  with 
these  how  can  I  now  detain  the  reader?  I  may  say,  however, 
that  we  learned  there  were  eight  islands  in  the  group — that  they 
were  governed  by  a  common  king,  named  Tsalemon  or  Psalemoutt, 
who  resided  in  one  of  the  smallest  of  the  islands;  that  the  black  skins 
forming  the  dress  of  the  warriors  came  from  an  animal  of  huge 
size  to  be  found  only  in  a  valley  near  the  court  of  the  king — 
that  the  inhabitants  of  the  group  fabricated  no  other  boats  than 
the  flat-bottomed  rafts ;  the  four  canoes  being  all  of  the  kind  it: 
their  possession,  and  these  having  been  obtained,  by  mere  acci- 
dent, from  some  large  island  in  the  southwest — that  his  own 
name  was  Nu-Nu — that  he  had  no  knowledge  of  Bennett's  Is- 
let— and  that  the  appellation  of  the  island  we  had  left  was  TsalaL 
The  commencement  of  the  words  Tsalemon  and  Tscdal  was  given 
with  a  prolonged  hissing  sound,  which  we  found  it  impossible  to 
imitate,  even  after  repeated  endeavors,  and  which  was  precisely 
the  same  with  the  note  of  the  black  bittern  we  had  eaten  up  on 
the  summit  of  the  hill. 

March  3.  The  heat  of  the  water  was  now  truly  remarkable, 
and  its  color  was  undergoing  a  rapid  change,  being  no  longer 
transparent,  but  of  a  milky  consistency  and  hue.  In  our  imme- 
diate vicinity  it  was  usually  smooth,  never  so  rough  as  to  endan- 
ger the  canoe — but  we  were  frequently  surpi-ised  at  perceivingj 
to  our  right  and  left,  at  different  distances,  sudden  and  extensive 
agitations .  of  the  surface — these,  we  at  length  noticed,  were 
always  preceded  by  wild  flickeriags  in  the  region  of  vapor  to  the 
Southward. 


184  NARRATIVE  OF 

March  4.  To-day,  with  the  view  of  widening  our  sail,  the 
breeze  from  the  northward  dying  away  perceptibly,  I  took  from 
my  coat-pocket  a  white  handkerchief.  Nu-Nu  was  seated  at  my 
elbow,  and  the  linen  accidentally  flaring  in  his  face,  he  became 
violently  affected  with  convulsions.  These  were  succeeded  by 
drowsiness  and  stupor,  and  low  murmurings  of  Tekeli-li !  Teke- 
li-li  ! 

March  5.  The  wind  had  entirely  ceased,  but  it  was  evident 
that  we  were  still  hurrying  on  to  the  southward,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  powerful  current.  And  now,  indeed,  it  would  seem 
reasonable  that  we  should  experience  some  alarm  at  the  turn 
events  were  taking — but  we  felt  none.  The  countenance  of  Pe- 
ters indicated  nothing  of  this  nature,  although  it  wore  at  times  an 
expression  I  could  not  fathom.  The  Polar  winter  appeared  to 
be  coming  on — but  coming  without  its  terrors.  I  felt  a  numbness 
of  body  and  mind — a  dreaminess  of  sensation — but  this  was  all. 

March  6.  The  gray  vapor  had  now  arisen  many  more  de- 
grees above  the  horizon,  and  was  gradually  losing  its  grayness 
of  tint.  The  heat  of  the  water  was  extreme,  even  unpleasant  to 
the  touch,  and  its  milky  hue  was  more  evident  than  ever.  To- 
day a  violent  agitation  of  the  water  occurred  very  close  to  the 
canoe.  It  was  attended,  as  usual,  with  a  wild  flaring  up  of  the 
vapor  at  its  summit,  and  a  momentary  division  at  its  base.  A 
tine  white  powder,  resembling  ashes — but  certainly  not  such — 
fell  over  the  canoe  and  over  a  large  surface  of  the  water,  as  the 
flickering  died  away  among  the  vapor  and  the  commotion  subsi- 
ded in  the  sea.  Nu-Nu  now  threw  himself  on  his  face  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  and  no  persuasions  could  induce  him  to  arise. 

March  7.  This  day  we  questioned  Nu-Nu  concerning  the 
motives  of  his  countrymen  in  destroying  our  companions  ;  but  he 
appeared  to  be  too  utterly  overcome  by  terror  to  afford  us  any 
rational  reply.  He  still  obstinately  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat ;  and,  upon  our  reiterating  the  questions  as  to  the  motive 
made  use  only  of  idiotic  gesticulations,  such  as  raising  with  his 
forefinger  the  upper  lip,  and  displaying  the  teeth  which  lay  be- 
neath it.  These  were  black.  We  had  never  before  seen  the 
teeth  of  an  inhabitant  of  Tsalal. 

March  8.     To-day  there  flowed  by  us  one  of  the  white  ani 


A.  GORDON  PYM.  185 

mals  whose  appearance  upon  the  beach  at  Tsalal  had  occasioned 
so  wild  a  commotion  among  the  savages.  I  would  have  picked 
it  up,  but  there  came  over  me  a  sudden  listlessness,  and  I  for- 
bore. The  heat  of  the  water  still  increased,  and  the  hand  could 
no  longer  be  endured  within  it.  Peters  spoke  little,  and  I  knew 
not  what  to  think  of  his  apathy.  Nu-Nu  breathed,  and  no  more. 

March  9.  The  whole  ashy  material  fell  now  continually 
around  us,  and  in  vast  quantities.  The  range  of  vapor  to  the 
southward  had  arisen  prodigiously  in  the  horizon,  and  began  to 
assume  more  distinctness  of  form.  I  can  liken  it  to  nothing  but 
a  limitless  cataract,  rolling  silently  into  the  sea  from  some  im- 
mense and  far-distant  rampart  in  the  heaven.  The  gigantic  cur- 
tain ranged  along  the  whole  extent  of  the  southern  horizon.  It 
emitted  no  sound. 

March  21.  A  sullen  darkness  now  hovered  above  us — bui 
from  out  the  milky  depths  of  the  ocean  a  luminous  glare  arose, 
and  stole  up  along  the  bulwarks  of  the  boat.  We  were  nearly 
overwhelmed  by  the  white  ashy  shower  which  settled  upon  u& 
and  upon  the  canoe,  but  melted  into  the  water  as  it  fell.  The 
summit  of  the  cataract  was  utterly  lost  in  the  dimness  and  the 
distance.  Yet  we  were  evidently  approaching  it  'with  a  hideous 
velocity.  At  intervals  there  were  visible  in  it  wide,  yawning, 
but  momentary  rents,  and  fron*  out  these  rents,  within  which  was 
a  chaos  of  flitting  and  indistinct  images,  there  came  rushing  and 
mighty,  but  soundless  winds,  tearing  up  the  enkindled  ocean  in 
their  course. 

March  22.  The  darkness  had  materially  increased,  relieved 
only  by  the  glare  of  the  water  thrown  back  from  the  white  cur- 
tain before  us.  Many  gigantic  and  pallidly  white  birds  flew  con- 
tinuously now  from  beyond  the  veil,  and  their  scream  was  the 
eternal  Tekeli-li!  as  they  retreated  from  our  vision.  Hereupon 
Nu-Nu  stirred  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat;  but,  upon  touching 
him,  we  found  his  spirit  departed.  And  now  we  rushed  into  the 
embraces  of  the  cataract,  where  a  chasm  threw  itself  open  to  re- 
ceive us.  But  there  arose  in  our  pathway  a  shrouded  human 
figure,  very  far  larger  in  its  proportions  than  any  dweller  among 
men.  And  the  hue  of  the  skin  of  the  figure  was  of  the  perfect 
whiteness  of  the  snow. 


NOTE 


THE  circumstances  connected  with  the  late  sudden  and  distressing  death 
of  Mr.  Pym,  are  already  well  known  to  the  public  through  the  medium  of 
the  daily  press.  It  is  feared  that  the  few  remaining  chapters  which  were 
to  have  completed  his  narrative,  and  which  were  retained  by  him,  while 
the  above  were  in  type,  for  the  purpose  of  revision,  have  been  irrecoverably 
lost  through  the  accident  by  which  he  perished  himself.  This,  however, 
may  prove  not  to  be  the  case,  and  the  papers,  if  ultimately  found,  will  be 
given  to  the  public.  ^ 

No  means  have  been  left  untried  to  remedy  the  deficiency.  The  gentle- 
man whose  name  is  mentioned  in  the  preface,  and  who,  from  the  statement 
there  made,  might  be  supposed  able  to  fill  the  vacuum,  has  declined  the 
task — this,  for  satisfactory  reasons  connected  with  the  general  inaccuracy 
of  the  details  afforded  him,  and  his  disbelief  in  the  entire  truth  of  the  latter 
portions  of  the  narration.  Peters,  from  whom  some  information  might  be 
expected,  is  still  alive,  and  a  resident  of  Illinois,  but  cannot  be  met  with  at 
present.  He  may  hereafter  be  found,  and  will,  no  doubt,  afford  material 
for  a  conclusion  of  Mr.  Pym's  account. 

The  loss  of  two  or  three  final  chapters  (for  there  were  but  two  or  three,) 
is  the  more  deeply  to  be  regretted,  as,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  they  contained 
matter  relative  to  the  Pole  itself,  or  at  least  to  regions  in  its  very  near  prox- 
imity ;  and  as,  too,  the  statements  of  the  author  in  relation  to  these  regions 
may  shortly  be  verified  or  contradicted  by  means  of  the  governmental  expe- 
dition now  preparing  for  the  Southern  Ocean. 

On  one  point  in  the  Narrative  some  remarks  may  well  be  offered  ;  and  it 
would  afford  the  writer  of  this  appendix  much  pleasure  if  what  he  may 
nere  observe  should  have  a  tendency  to  throw  credit,  in  any  degree,  unon 


JNOTE.  187 

the  \ery  singular  pages  now  published.  We  allude  to  the  chasms  found 
in  the  island  of  Tsalal,  and  to  the  whole  of  the  figures  upon  pages  171,  172, 
173,  174. 

Mr.  Pym  has  given  the  figures  of  the  chasms  without  comment,  and 
speaks  decidedly  of  the  indentures  found  at  the  extremity  of  the  most  east- 
erly of  these  chasms  as  having  but  a  fanciful  resemblance  to  alphabetical 
characters,  and,  in  short,  as  being  positively  not  such.  This  assertion  a 
made  in  a  manner  so  simple,  and  sustained  by  a  species  of  demonstration 
so  conclusive  viz.,  (the  fitting  of  the  projections  of  the  fragments  found 
among  the  dust  into  the  indentures  upon  the  wall,)  that  we  are  forced  to 
believe  the  writer  in  earnest ;  and  no  reasonable  reader  should  suppose 
otherwise.  But  as  the  facts  in  relation  to  all  the  figures  are  most  singular 
(especially  when  taken  in  connection  with  statements  made  in  the  body 
of  the  narrative,)  it  may  be  as  well  to  say  a  word  or  two  concerning  them 
all — this,  too,  the  more  especially  as  the  facts  in  question  have,  beyond 
doubt,  escaped  the  attention  of  Mr.  Poe.  • 

Figure  1,  then,  figure  2,  figure  3,  and  figure  5,  when  conjoined  with  one 
another  in  the  precise  order  which  the  chasms  themselves  presented,  and 
when  deprived  of  the  small  lateral  branches  or  arches  (which,  it  will 
be  remembered;  served  only  as  a  means  of  communication  between  the 
main  chambers,  and  were  of  totally  distinct  character,)  constitute  an  Ethi- 
opian verbal  root — the  root  Jl  £\^^*  "  T°  be  shady" — whence  all  th* 
inflections  of  shadow  or  darkness. 

In  regard  to  the  "  left  or  most  northwardly"  of  the  indentures  in  figure  4 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  opinion  of  Peters  was  correct,  and  tha/ 
the  hicroglyphical  appearance  was  really  the  work  of  art,  and  intended  a» 
the  representation  of  a  human  form.  The  delineation  is  before  the  reader, 
and  he  may,  or  may  not,  perceive  the  resemblance  suggested ;  but  the  rest 
of  the  indentures  afford  strong  confirmation  of  Peters's  idea.  The  upper 
range  is  evidently  the  Arabic  verbal  root  t/XSTLAQ  "  To  be  white," 
whence  all  the  inflections  of  brilliancy  and  whiteness.  The  lower  range  is 
not  so  immediately  perspicuous.  The  characters  are  somewhat  broken 
and  disjointed  ;  nevertheless,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that,  in  their  perfect 
state,  they  formed  the  full  Egyptian  word  YL  &^f  YPHC»"  The  reg>on 
of  the  south."  It  should  be  observed  that  these  interpretations  confirm  tha 
opinion  of  Peters  in  regard  to  the  "  most  northwardly"  of  the  figures  The 
arm  is  outstretched  towards  the  south. 

Conclusions  such  as  these  open  a  wide  field  for  speculation  and  exciting 
conjecture.  They  should  be  regarded,  perhaps,  in  connection  with  some 
of  the  most  faintly-detailed  incidents  of  the  narrative:  although  in  no  visi- 
ble manner  is  this  chain  of  connection  complete.  Tekeli-li !  was  the  cry 
of  the  affrighted  natives  of  Tsalal  upon  discovering  the  carcass  of  the  white 
animal  picked  up  at  sea.  This  also  was  the  shuddering  exclamation  of  tho 


188  NOTE. 

captive  Tsalalian  upon  encountering  the  white  materials  in  possession  of 
Mr.  Pym.  This  also  was  the  shriek  of  the  swift-flying,  while,  and  gigai:tic 
birds  which  issued  from  the  vapory  white  curtain  of  the  South.  Nothing 
white  was  to  be  found  at  Tsalal,  and  nothing  otherwise  in  the  subsequent 
voyage  to  the  region  beyond.  It  is  not  impossible  that  "  Tsalal,"  the  ap- 
pellation of  the  island  of  the  chasms,  may  be  found,  upon  minute  philolo- 
gical scrutiny,  to  betray  either  some  alliance  with  the  chasms  themselves, 
or  some  reference  to  the  Ethiopian  characters  so  mysteriously  written  in 
their  windings. 

"  /  have  graven  it  within  the  hills,  and  my  vengeance  upon  the  dust  icit/tin 
the  rock." 


MISCELLANIES. 


THE    SYSTEM 


DOCTOR  TARE  AND  PROFESSOR  FETHER 


DURING  the  autumn  of  18 — ,  while  on  a  tour  through  the 
extreme  Southern  provinces  of  France,  my  route  led  me  within 
a  few  miles  of  a  certain  Maison  de  Sante,  or  private  Mad  House, 
about  which  I  had  "heard  much,  in  Paris,  from  my  medical 
friends.  As  I  had  never  visited  a  place  of  the  kind,  I  thought 
the  opportunity  too  good  to  be  lost ;  and  so  proposed  to  my  trav- 
elling companion,  (a  gentleman  with  whom  I  had  made  casual 
acquaintance  a  few  days  before,)  that  we  should  turn  aside,  for 
an  hour  or  so,  and  look  through  the  establishment.  To  this  he 
objected — pleading  haste,  in  the  first  place,  and,  in  the  second,  a 
very  usual  horror  at  the  sight  of  a  lunatic.  He  begged  me,  how- 
ever, not  to  let  any  mere  courtesy  towards  himself  interfere  with 
the  gratification  of  my  curiosity,  and  said  that  he  would  ride  on 
leisurely,  so  that  I  might  overtake  him  during  the  day,  or,  at  all 
events,  during  the  next.  As  he  bade  me  good-by,  I  bethought 
me  that  there  might  be  some  difficulty  in  obtaining  access  to  the 
premises,  and  mentioned  my  fears  on  this  point.  He  replied 
that,  in  fact,  unless  I  had  personal  knowledge  of  the  superintend- 
ent,  Monsieur  Maillard,  or  some  credential  in  the  way  of  a  letter, 
a  difficulty  might  be  found  to  exist,  as  the  regulations  of  these 
private  mad-houses  were  more  rigid  than  the  public  hospital  laws. 
For  himself,  he  added,  he  had,  some  years  since,  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Maillard,  and  would  so  far  assist  me  as  to  ride  up 


192   THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TAHR  AND  PROF.  FETHLR. 

to  the  door  and  introduce  me  ;  although  his  feelings  on  the  sub- 
ject of  lunacy  would  not  permit  of  his  entering  the  house. 

I  thanked  him,  and,  turning  from  the  main-road,  we  entered  a 
grass-grown  by-path,  which,  in  half  an  hour,  nearly  lost  itself  iu 
a  dense  forest,  clothing  the  base  of  a  mountain.  Through  this 
dank  and  gloomy  wood  we  rode  some  two  miles,  when  the  Maison 
de  Sante  came  in  view.  It  was  a  fantastic  diateau,  much  dilapi- 
dated, and  indeed  scarcely  tenantable  through  age  and  neglect. 
Its  aspect  inspired  me  with  absolute  dread,  and,  checking  my 
horse,  I  half  resolved  to  turn  back.  I  soon,  however,  grew 
ashamed  of  my  weakness,  and  proceeded. 

As  we  rode  up  to  the  gate-way,  I  perceived  it  slightly  open, 
and  the  visage  of  a  man  peering  through-  In  an  instant  after- 
ward, this  man  came  forth,  accosted  my  companion  by  name, 
•shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand,  and  begged  him  to  alighf.  It 
was  Monsieur  Maillard  himself.  He  was  a  portly,  fine-looking 
gentleman  of  the  old  school,  with  a  polished  manner,  and  a  cer- 
tain air  of  gravity,  dignity,  and  authority  which  was  very  impres- 
sive. 

My  friend,  having  presented  me,  mentioned  my  desire  to  in- 
spect the  establishment,  and  received  Monsieur  Maillard's  assur- 
ance that  he  would  show  me  all  attention,  now  took  leave,  and  I 
saw  him  no  more. 

When  he  had  gone,  the  superintendent  ushered  me- into  a 
small  and  exceedingly  neat  parlor,  containing  among  other  indi- 
cations of  refined  taste,  many  books,  drawings,  pots  of  flowers, 
and  musical  instruments.  A  cheerful  fire  blazed  upon  the  hearth. 
At  a  piano,  singing  an  aria  from  Bellini,  sat  a  young  and  very 
beautiful  woman,  who,  at  my  entrance,  paused  in  her  song,  and 
received  me  .with  graceful  courtesy.  Her  voice  was  low,  and  her 
whole  manner  subdued.  I  thought,  too,  that  I  perceived  the 
traces  of  sorrow  in  her  countenance,  which  was  excessively,  al- 
thotigh  to  my  taste,  not  unpleasingly  pale.  She  was  attired  in 
deep  mourning,  and  excited  in  my  bosom  a  feeling  of  mingled 
respect,  interest,  and  admiration. 

I  had  heard,  at  Paris,  that  the  institution  of  Monsieur  Maillard 
was  managed  upon  what  is  vulgarly  termed  the  "system  of 
soothing" — that  all  punishments  were  avoided — that  even  con 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHF.R.       193 

finement  was  seldom  resorted  to — that  the  patients,  while  sec-retly 
watched,  were  left  much  apparent  liberty,  and  that  most  of  them 
were  permitted  to  roam  about  the  house  and  grounds,  in  the  or- 
dinary apparel  of  persons  in  right- mind. 

Keeping  these  impressions  in  view,  I  was  cautious  in  what  I 
said  before  the  young  lady ;  for  I  could  not  be  sure  that  she  was 
sane ;  and,  in  fact,  there  was  a  certain  restless  brilliancy  about 
her  eyes  which  half  led  me  to  imagine  she  was  not.  1  confined 
my  remarks,  therefore,  to  general  topics,  and  to  such  as  I  thought 
would  not  be  displeasing  or  exciting  even  to  a  lunatic.  She  re- 
plied in  a  perfectly  rational  manner  to  all  that  I  said ;  and  even 
her  original  observations  were  marked  with  the  soundest  good 
sense ;  but  a  long  acquaintance  witty  the  metaphysics  of  mania, 
had  taught  me  to  put  no  faith  in  such  evidence  of  sanity,  and  I 
contkiued  to  practice,  throughout  the  interview,  the  caution  with 
which  I  commenced  it. 

Presently  a  smart  footman  in  livery  brought  in  a  tray  with 
fruit,  wine,  and  other  refreshments,  of  which  I  partook,  the  lady 
soon  afterwards  leaving  the  room.  As  she  departed  I  turned  my 
eyes  in  an  inquiring  manner  towards  my  host. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  oh,  no — a  member  of  my  family — my  niece, 
and  a  most  accomplished  woman." 

"  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons  for  the  suspicion,"  I  replied,  "  but 
of  course  you  will  know  how  to  excuse  me.  The  excellent  ad- 
ministration of  your  affairs  here  is  well  understood  in  Paris,  and 
I  thought  it  just  possible,  you  know — " 

"  Yes,  yes — say  no  more — or  rather  it  is  myself  who  should 
thank  you  for  the  commendable  prudence  you  have  displayed. 
\Ve  seldom  find  so  much  of  forethought  in  young  men  ;  and,  more 
than  once,  some  unhappy  contre-temps  has  occurred  in  conse- 
quence of  thoughtlessness  on  the. part  of  our  visitors.  While  my 
former  system  was  in  operation,  and  my  patients  were  permitted 
the  privilege  of  roaming  to  and  fro  at  will,  they  were  often 
aroused  to  a  dangerous  frenzy  by  injudicious  persons  who  called 
to  inspect  the  house.  Hence  I  was  obliged  to  enforce  a  rigid 
<ystem  of  exclusion ;  and  none  obtained  access  to  the  premises 
apon  whose  discretion  I  could  not  rely." 

"  While  your  former  system  M-JVS  in  operation!"  I  said,  repeat- 


194      THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER. 

ing  .  his  words — "  do  I  understand  you,  then,  to  say  that  th« 
'  soothing  system'  of  which  I  have  heard  so  much,  is  no  longer  in 
force  ?" 

"  It  is  now,"  he  replied,  "  several  weeks  since  we  have  con 
eluded  to  renounce  it  forever." 

"  Indeed  !  you  astonish  me  !" 

•  "  We  found  it,  sir,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh,  "  absolutely  necessa- 
ry to  return  to  the  old  usages.  The  danger  of  the  soothing  sys- 
tem was,  at  all  times,  appalling  ;  and  its  advantages  have  been 
much  over-rated.  I  believe,  sir,  that  in  this  house  it  has  been 
given  a  fair  trial,  if  ever  in  any.  We  did  every  thing  that  ra- 
tional humanity  could  suggest.  I  am  sorry  that  you  could  not 
have  paid  us  a  visit  at  an  earlier  period,  that  you  might  have 
judged  for  yourself.  But  I  presume  you  are  conversant  with 
the  soothing  practice — with  its  details." 

"  Not  altogether.  What  I  have  heard  has  been  at  third  or 
fourth  hand." 

"  I  may  state  the  system  then,  in  general  terms,  as  one  in 
v  hich  the  patients  were  menagcs,  humored.  We  contradicted  no 
fancies  which  entered  the  brains  of  the  mad.  On  the  contrary. 
we  not  only  indulged  but  encouraged  them ;  and  many  of  our 
most  permanent  cures  have  been  thus  effected.  There  is  no  ar 
gument  which  so  touches  the  feeble  reason  of  the  madman  as  the 
reductio  ad  absurdum.  We  have  had  men,  for  example,  who 
fancied  themselves  chickens.  The  cure  was,  to  insist  upon  the 
thing  as  a  fact — to  accuse  the  patient  of  stupidity  in  not  suffi- 
ciently perceiving  it  to  be  a  fact — and  thus  to  refuse  him  any 
other  diet  for  a  week  than  that  which  properly  appertains  to  a 
chicken.  In  this  manner  a  little  corn  and  gravel  were  made  to 
perform  wonders." 

"  But  was  this  species  of  acquiescence  all  ?" 

"  By  no  means.  We  put  much  faith  in  amusements  of  a  sim- 
ple kind,  such  as  music,  dancing,  gymnastic  exercises  generally, 
cards,  certain  classes  of  books,  and  so  forth.  We  affected  to  treat 
each  individual  as  if  for  some  ordinary  physical  disorder ;  and 
the  word  '  lunacy'  was  never  employed.  A  great  point  was  to 
set  each  lunatic  to  guard  the  actions  of  all  the  others.  To  repose 
confidence  in  the  understanding  or  discretion  of  a  madman,  is  to 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROP.  FETHER.       195 

gain  him  body  and  soul.     In  this  way  we  were  enabled  to  dia 
pense  with  an  expensive  body  of  keepers." 

"  And  you  had  no  punishments  of  any  kind  ?" 

"  None." 

"  And  you  never  confined  your  patients  ?" 

"  Very  rarely.  Now  and  then,  the  malady  of  some  individual 
growing  to  a  crisis,  or  taking  a  sudden  turn  of  fury,  we  conveyed 
him  to  a  secret  cell,  lest  his  disorder  should  infect  the  rest,  and 
there  kept  him  until  we  could  dismiss  him  to  his  friends — for 
with  the  raging  maniac  we  have  nothing  to  do.  He  is  usually  re- 
moved to  the  public  hospitals." 

"  And  you  have  now  changed  all  this — and  you  think  for  the 
better  ?" 

"  Decidedly.  The  system  had  its  disadvantages,  and  even  its 
dangers.  It  is  now,  happily,  exploded  throughout  all  the  Mai~ 
sons  de  Sante  of  France." 

"  I  am  very  much  surprised,"  I  said,  "  at  what  you  tell  me ;  for 
1  made  sure  that,  at  this  moment,  no  other  method  of  treatment 
for  mania  existed  in  any  portion  of  the  country." 

"  You  are  young  yet,  my  friend,"  replied  my  host,  "  but  the 
time  will  arrive  when  you  will  learn  to  judge  for  yourself  of  what 
is  going  on  in  the  world,  without  trusting  to  the  gossip  of  others. 
Believe  nothing  you  hear,  and  only  one  half  that  you  see.  Now, 
about  our  Mjisons  de  Sante,  it  is  clear  that  some  ignoramus  has 
misled  you.  After  dinner,  however,  when  you  have  sufficiently 
recovered  from  the  fatigue  of  your  ride,  I  will  be  happy  to  take 
you  over  the  house,  and  introduce  to  you  a  system  which,  in  my 
opinion,  and  in  that  of  every  one  who  has  witnessed  its  opera 
tion,  is  incomparably  the  most  effectual  as  yet  devised.'' 

u  Your  own?"  I  inquired — "one  of  your  own  invention  ?" 

"  ]  am  proud,"  he  replied,  "  to  acknowledge  that  it  is — at 
least  in  some  measure." 

In  this  manner  I  conversed  with  Monsieur  Maillard  for  an 
hour  or  two,  during  which  he  showed  me  the  gardens  and  con 
servatories  of  the  place. 

"  I  cannot  let  you  see  my  patients,"  he  said,  ''just  at  present. 
To  a  sensitive  mind  there  is  always  more  or  less  of  the  shocking 
in  such  exhib-tions  ;  and  I  do  not  wish  to  spoil  your  appetite  for 


196      THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND   PROF.    FETHKR. 

dinner.  "We  will  dine.  I  can  give  you  some  veal  a  la  Jfens- 
hoult,  with  cauliflowers  in  veloute  sauce — after  that  a  glass  of 
Clos  de  Vongcot — then  your  nerves  will  be  sufficiently  steadied." 

At  six,  dinner  was  announced ;  and  my  host  conducted  me 
into  a  large  salle  a  manger,  where  a  very  numerous  company 
were  assembled — twenty-five  or  thirty  in  all.  They  were,  ap- 
parently, people  of  rank — certainly  of  high  breeding — although 
their  habiliments,  I  thought,  were  extravagantly  rich,  partaking 
somewhat  too  much  of  the  ostentatious  finery  of  the  vielle  cour. 
I  noticed  that  at  least  two-thirds  of  these  guests  were  ladies;  and 
Borne  of  the  latter  were  by  no  means  accoutred  in  what  a  Parisian 
would  consider  good  taste  at  the  present  day.  Many  females, 
for  example,  whose  age  could  not  have  been  less  than  seventy, 
were  bedecked  with  a  profusion  of  jewelry,  such  as  rings,  brace- 
lets, and  ear-rings,  and  wore  their  bosoms  and  arms  shamefully 
bare.  I  observed,  too,  that  very  few  of  the  dresses  were  well 
made — or,  at  least,  that  very  few  of  them  fitted  the  wearers.  In 
looking  about,  I  discovered  the  interesting  girl  to  whom  Monsieur 
Maillard  had  presented  me  in  the  little  parlor;  but  my  surprise 
was  great  to  see  her  wearing  a  hoop  and  farthingale,  with  high- 
heeled  shoes,  and  a  dirty  cap  of  Brussels  lace,  so  much  too  large 
for  her  that  it  gave  her  face  a  ridiculously  diminutive  expression. 
When  I  had  first  seen  her,  she  was  attired,  most  becomingly,  in 
deep  mourning.  There  was  an  air  of  oddity,  in  short,  about  the 
dress  of  the  whole  party,  which,  at  first,  caused  me  to  recur  to 
my  original  idea  of  the  "  soothing  system,"  and  to  fancy  that 
Monsieur  Maillard  had  been  willing  to  deceive  me  until  after 
dinner,  that  I  might  experience  no  uncomfortable  feelings  during 
the  repast,  at  finding  myself  dining  with  lunatics  ;  but  I  remem- 
bered having  been  informed,  in  Paris,  that  the  southern  provin- 
cialists  w«re  a  peculiarly  eccentric  people,  with  a  vast  number  of 
antiquated  notions  ;  and  then,  too,  upon  conversing  with  several 
members  of  the  company,  my  apprehensions  were  immediately 
and  fully  dispelled. 

The  dining-room,  itself,  although  perhaps  sufficiently  comfort- 
able, and  of  good  dimensions,  had  nothing  too  much  of  elegance 
about  it.  For  example,  the  floor  was  uncarpeted ;  in  France 
however  a  carpet  is  frequently  expensed  with.  The  windows, 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER.       197 

too,  were  without  curtains ;  the  shutters,  being  shut,  were  secure* 
ly  fastened  with  iron  bars,  applied  diagonally,  after  the  fashion 
of  our  ordinary  shop-shutters.  The  apartment,  I  observed, 
formed,  in  itself,  a  wing  of  the  chateau,  and  thus  the  windows 
were  on  three  sides  of  the  parallelogram  ;  the  door  being  at  the 
other.  There  were  no  less  than  ten  windows  m  all. 

The  table  was  su  perbly  set  out.  It  was  loaded  wit  h  plate,  and  more 
than  loaded  with  delicacies.  The  profusion  was  ab>olutely  barbaric. 
There  were  meats  enough  to  have  feasted  the  Anakim.  Never, 
in  all  my  life,  had  I  witnessed  so  lavish,  so  wasteful  an  expendi- 
ture of  the  good  tilings  of  life.  There  seemed  very  little  taste, 
however,  in  the  arrangements ;  and  my  eyes,  accustomed  to  quiet 
lights,  were  sadly  offended  by  the  prodigious  glare  of  a  multitude 
of  wax  candles,  which,  in  silver  candelabra,  were  deposited  upon 
the  table,  and  all  about  the  room,  wherever  it  was  possible  to  find 
a  place.  There  were  several  active  servants  in  attendance  ;  and, 
upon  a  large  table,  at  the  farther  end  of  the  apartment,  were 
seated  seven  or  eight  people  with  fiddles,  fifes,  trombones,  and  a 
drum.  These  fellows  annoyed  me  very  much,  at  intervals, 
during  the  repast,  by  an  infinite  variety  of  noises,  which  were 
intended  for  music,  and  which  appeared  to  afford  much  enter- 
tainment to  all  present,  with  the  exception  of  myself. 

Upon  the  whole,  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  there  was  much 
of  the  bizarre  about  every  thing  I  saw — but  then  the  world  is 
made  up  of  all  kinds  of  persons,  with  all  modes  of  thought,  and 
all  sorts  of  conventional  customs.  I  had  travelled,  too,  so  much 
as  to.be  quite  an  adept  in  the  nil  admirari  ;  so  I  took  my  seat 
very  coolly  at  the  right  hand  of  my  host,  and,  having  an  excel- 
ent  appetite,  did  justice  to  the  good  cheer  set  before  me. 

The  conversation,  in  the  mean  time,  was  spirited  and  general. 
The  ladies,  as  usual,  talked  a  great  deal.  I  soon  found  that 
nearly  all  the  company  were  well  educated ;  and  my  host  was  a 
world  of  good-humored  anecdote  in  himself.  He  seemed  quite 
M'illing  to  speak  of  his  position  as  superintendent  of  a  Maison  de 
Sante  ;  and,  indeed,  the  topic  of  lunacy  was,  much  to  my  sur- 
prise, a  favorite  one  with  all  present.  A  great  many  amusing 
stories  were  told,  having  reference  to  the  whims  of  the  patients. 

"  We  had  a  fellow  here  once."  said  a  fat  little  gentleman,  who 


198      THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF..  FETHER. 

sat  at  my  right — ''  a  fellow  that  fancied  himself  a  tea-pot ;  and, 
by  the  way,  is  it  not  especially  singular  how  often  this  particular 
crotchet  has  entered  the  brain  of  the  lunatic  ?  There  is  scarcely 
an  irsane  asylum  in  France  which  cannot  supply  a  human  tea- 
pot. Our  gentleman  was  a  Britannia-ware  tea-pot,  and  was 
careful  to  polish  himself  every  morning  with  buckskin  and  whi 
ting." 

''  And  then,"  said  a  lall  man,  just  opposite,  "  we  had  here,  not 
long  ago,  a  person  who  had  taken  it  into  his  head  that  he  was  a 
donkey — which,  allegorically  speaking,  you  will  say,  was  quite 
true.  He  was  a  troublesome  patient;  and  we  had  much  ado  to 
keep  him  within  bounds.  For  a  long  time  he  would  eat  nothing 
but  thistles  ;  but  of  this  idea  we  soon  cured  him  by  insisting  upon 
his  eating  nothing  else.  Then  he  was  perpetually  kicking  out 
hin  heels — so — so — " 

"  Mr.  De  Kock  !  I  will  thank  you  to  behave  yourself!"  here 
interrupted  an  old  lady,  who  sat  next  to  the  speaker.  "  Please 
keep  your  feet  to  yourself!  You  have  spoiled  my  brocade  !  Is 
it  necessary,  pray,  to  illustrate  a  remark  in  so  practical  a  style  ? 
Our  friend,  here,  can  surely  comprehend  you  without  all  this. 
Upon  my  word,  you  are  nearly  as  great  a  donkey  as  the  poor 
unfortunate  imagined  himself.  Your  acting  is  very  natural,  as  I 
live." 

"  Mille  pardons  !  Mam'sette  ! "  replied  Monsieur  De  Kock, 
thus  addressed — "  a  thousand  pardons  !  I  had  no  intention  of 
offending.  Ma'mselle  Laplace — Monsieur  De  Kock  will  do 
himself  the  honor  cf  taking  wine  with  you." 

Here  Monsieur  De  Kock  bowed  low,  kissed  his  hand  with  much 
ceremony,  and  took  wine  with  Ma'mselle  Laplace. 

"  Allow  me,  mon  ami"  now  said  Monsieur  Maillard,  address- 
ing myself,  "  allow  me  to  send  you  a  morsel  of  this  veal  a  la  St. 
Menehoult — you  will  find  it  particularly  fine." 

At  this  instant  three  sturdy  waiters  had  just  succeeded  in  de- 
positing safely  upon  the  table  an  enormous  dish,  or  trencher, 
containing  what  I  supposed  to  be  the  "  monstru/n,  horrendum, 
informe,  ingens,  cui  lumen  ademptum."  A  closer  scrutiny  assured 
me,  however,  that  it  was  only  a  small  calf  i-oasted  whole,  and  set 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  JROF.  FETHER.       199 

•ipon   its  knees,  with  an  apple  in  its  mouth,  as  is  the  English 
fashion  of  dressing  a  hare. 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  I  replied ;  "  to  say  the  truth,  I  am  not  par- 
ticularly partial  to  veal  a  la  St. — what  is  it  ? — for  I  do  not  find 
that  it  altogether  agrees  with  me.  I  will  change  my  plate,  how- 
ever, and  try  some  of  t-he  rabbit." 

There  were  several  side-dishes  on  the  table,  containing  what 
appeared  to  be  the  ordinary  French  rabbit — a  \ory  delicious 
morceau,  which  I  can  recommend. 

"  Pierre,"  cried  the  host,  "  change  this  gentleman's  plate,  and 
give  him  a  side-piece  of  this  rabbit  au-chdt." 

4i  This  what  ?"  said  I. 

"  This  rabbit  au-chdt" 

"  Why,  thank   you — upon   second  thoughts,  no.     I  will  ju 
help  myself  to  some  of  the  ham." 

There  is  no  knowing  what  one  eats,  thought  I  to  myself,  at  the 
tables  of  these  people  of  the  province.  I  will  have  none  of  their 
rabbit  au-chdt — and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  none  of  their  cat-aii' 
rabbit  either. 

"  And  then,"  said  a  cadaverous-looking  personage,  near  the 
foot  of  the  table,  taking  up  the  thread  of  the  conversation  where 
it  had  been  broken  off — "  and  then,  among  other  oddities,  we  had 
a  patient,  once  upon  a  time,  who  very  pertinaciously  maintained 
himself  to  be  a  Cordova  cheese,  and  went  about,  with  a  knife  in 
his  hand,  soliciting  his  friends  to  try  a  small  slice  from  the  middle 
of  his  leg." 

••  He  was  a  great  fool,  beyond  doubt,''  interposed  some  one, 
"  but  not  to  be  compared  with  a  certain  individual  whom  we  all 
know,  with  the  exception  of  this  strange  gentleman.  I  mean  the 
man  who  took  himself  for  a  bottle  of  champagne,  and  always 
went  off  with  a  pop  and  a  fizz,  in  this  fashion." 

Here  the  speaker,  very  rudely,  as  I  thought,  put  his  right 
thumb  in  his  left  cheek,  withdrew  it  with  a  sound  resembling  the 
popping  of  a  cork,  and  then,  by  a  dexterous  movement  of  the 
tongue  upon  the  teeth,  created  a  sharp  hissing  and  fizzing,  which 
lasted  for  several  minutes,  in  imitation  of  the  frothing  of  cham- 
pagne. This  behavior,  I  saw  plainly,  was  not  very  pleasing  to 
Monsieur  Maillard ;  but  that  gentleman  said  nothing,  and  the 
C'.nversation  wa?  resumed  by  a  very  lean  little  man  in  a  big  wig 


200   THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER 

"  And  then  there  was  an  ignoramus,"  said  he,  "  who  mistook 
himself  for  a  frog;  which,  by  the  way,  he  :esembled  in  i.<o  little 
degree.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  him,  sir," — here  the  speaker 
addressed  myself — •'  it  would  have  done  your  heart  good  to 
see  the  natural  airs  that  he  put  on.  Sir,  if  that  man  was  not  a 
frog,  I  can  only  observe  that  it  is  a  pity  he  was  not.  His  croak 
thus — o-o-o-o-gh — o-o-o-o-gh  !  was  the  finest  note  in  the  world — 
B  flat ;  and  when  he  put  his  elbows  upon  the  table  thus — after 
taking  a  glass  or  two  of  wine — and  distended  his  mouth,  thus,  and 
rolled  up  his  eyes,  thus,  and  winked  them  with  excejsive  rapidity, 
thus,  why  then,  sir,  I  take  it  upon  myself  to  say,  positively,  that 
you  would  have  been  lost  in  admiration  of  the  genius  of  the  man." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  I  said. 

•'  And  then,"  said  somebody  else,  "  then  there  was  Petit  Gail- 
lard,  who  thought  himself  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  was  truly  distressed 
because  he  could  not  take  himself  between  his  own  finger  and 
thumb." 

"  And  then  there  was  Jules  Desoulieres,  who  was  a  very  sin- 
gular genius,  indeed,  and  went  mad  with  the  idea  that  he  was  a 
pumpkin.  He  persecuted  the  cook  to  make  him  up  into  pies — 
a  thing  which  the  cook  indignantly  refused  to  do.  For  my  part, 
I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  a  pumpkin  pie  a  li  Desouleries, 
would  not  have  been  very  capital  eating,  indeed  !" 

"  You  astonish  me  !"  said  I ;  and  I  looked  inquisitively  at 
Monsieur  Maillard. 

"  Ha !  ha  !  ha !"  said  that  gentleman — "he  !  he  !  he  ! — hi !  hi  I 
hi! — ho!  ho!  ho! — hu  !  hu  !  hu  ! — very  good  indeed!  You 
must  not  be  astonished,  mon  ami ;  our  friend  here  is  a  wit — a 
drole — you  must  not  understand  him  to  the  letter." 

"  And  then,"  said  some  other  one  of  the  party,  "  then  there 
was  Bouffon  Le  Grand — another  extraordinary  personage  in  his 
way.  He  grew  deranged  through  love,  and  fancied  himself  pos- 
sessed of  two  heads.  One  of  these  he  maintained  to  be  the  head 
of  Cicero  ;  the  other  he  imagined  a  composite  one,  being  Demos- 
thenes' from  the  top  of  the  forehead  to  the  mouth,  and  Lord 
Brougham  from  the  mouth  to  the  chin.  It  is  not  impossible  that 
be  was  wrong  ;  but  he  would  have  convinced  you  of  his  being  in 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER.       201 

the  right ;  for  he  was  a  man  of  great  eloquence.  He  had  an 
absolute  passion  for  oratory,  and  could  not  refrain  from  display. 
For  example,  he  used  to  leap  upon  the  dinner-table  thus,  ami-— 
and—" 

Here  a  friend,  at  the  side  of  the  speaker,  put  a  hand  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear;  upon  which  he 
ceased  talking  with  great  suddenness,  and  sank  back  within  his 
chair. 

"  And  then,"  said  the  friend,  who  had  whispered,  "  there  was 
Boullard,  the  tee-totum.  I  call  him  the  tee-totum,  because,  in 
fact,  he  was  seized  with  the  droll,  but  not  altogether  irrational 
crotchet,  that  he  had  been  converted  into  a  tee-totum.  You 
would  have  roared  with  laughter  to  see  him  spin.  He  would 
turn  round  upon  one  heel  by  the  hour,  in  this  manner — so — " 

Hore  the  friend  whom  he  had  just  interrupted  by  a  whisper,  per- 
formed an  exactly  similar  office  for  himself. 

"  But  then,"  cried  an  old  lady,  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  "your 
Monsieur  Boullard  was  a  madman,  and  a  very  silly  madman  at 
best ;  for  who,  allow  me  to  ask  you,  ever  heard  of  a  human  tee- 
totum ?  The.  thing  is  absurd.  Madame  Joyeuse  was  a  more 
sensible  person,  as  you  know.  She  had  a  crotchet,  but  it  was  in- 
stinct with  common  sense,  and  gave  pleasure  to  all  who  had  the 
honor  of  her  acquaintance.  She  found,  upon  mature  delibera- 
tion, that,  by  some  accident,  she  had  been  turned  into  a  chicken- 
cock  ;  but,  as  such,  she  behaved  with  propriety.  She  flapped 
her  wings  with  prodigious  effect — so — so — so — and,  as  for  her 
crow,  it  was  delicious  !  Cock-a-doodle-doo  ! — cock-a-doodle-doo— 
c,ock-a-doodle-de-doo-doo-dooo-do-o-o-o-o-o-o- !" 

"  Madame  Joyeuse,  I  will  thank  you  to  behave  yourself!"  here 
interrupted  our  host,  very  angrily.  "  You  can  either  conduct 
yourself  as  a  lady  should  do,  or  you  can  quit  the  table  forthwith — • 
take  your  choice." 

The  lady,  (whom  I  was  much  astonished  to  hear  addressed  as 
Madame  Joyeuse,  after  the  description  of  Madame  Joyeuse  she 
had  just  given,)  blushed  up  to  the  eye-brows,  and  seemed  ex- 
ceedingly abashed  at  the  reproof.  She  hung  down  her  head,  and 
said  not  a  syllable  in  reply.  But  another  and  younger  lady  re- 
turned  the  theme.  It  was  my  beautiful  <rirl  of  the  little  parlor' 


202      THE  SYSTEM  OF   DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER, 

"  Oli,  Madame  Joyeuse  was  a  fool !"  she  exclaimed;  "  but  there 
was  really  much  sound  sense,  after  all,  in  the  opinion  of  Eugenie 
Salsafettc.  She  was  a  very  beautiful  and  painfully  modest  young 
lady,  who  thought  the  ordinary  mode  of  habiliment  indecent,  and 
wished  to  dress  herself,  always,  by  getting  outside,  instead  of  in- 
side of  her  clothes.  It  is  a  thing  very  easily  done,  after  all.  You 
have  only  to  do  so — and  then  so — so — so — and  then  so — so — • 
so — and  then — " 

"  Mon  dieu  !  Mam'selle  Salsafette  !"  here  cried  a  dozen  voices 
it  once.  "  What  are  you  about  ? — forbear  ! — that  is  sufficient ! — 
tve  see,  very  plainly,  how  it  is  done  ! — hold!  hold!"  and  several 
persons  were  already  leaping  from  their  seats  to  withold  Mam'- 
selle Salsafettefrom  putting  herself  upon  a  par  with  the  Medicean 
Venus,  when  the  point  was  very  effectually  and  suddenly  accom- 
plished by  a  series  of  loud  screams,  or  yells,  from  some  portion 
rf  the  main  body  of  the  chateau. 

My  nerves  were  very  much  affected,  indeed,  by  these  yells  ; 
but  the  rest  of  the  company  I  really  pitied.  I  never  saw  any 
set  of  reasonable  people  so  thoroughly  frightened  in  ray  life. 
They  all  grew  as  pale  as  so  many  corpses,  and,  shrinking  within 
their  seats,  sat  quivering  and  gibbering  with  terror,  and  listening 
for  a  repetition  of  the  sound.  It  came  again — louder  and  seem- 
ingly nearer — and  then  a  third  time  very  loud,  and  then  a  fourth 
time  with  a  vigor  evidently  diminished.  At  this  apparent  dying 
away  of  the  noise,  the  spirits  of  the  company  were  immediately 
regained,  and  all  was  life  and  anecdote  as  before.  I  now  ven- 
tured to  inquire  the  cause  of  the  disturbance. 

"  A  mere  bagatelle"  said  Monsieur  Maillard.  "  We  are  used 
to  these  things,  and  care  really  very  little  about  them.  The  lu- 
natics, every  now  and  then,  get  up  a  howl  in  concert ;  one  srart- 
ing  another,  as  is  sometimes  the  case  with  a  bevy  of  dogs  at  night 
It  occasionally  happens,  however,  that  the  concerto  yells  are  suc- 
ceeded by  n,  simultaneous  effort  at  breaking  loose ;  when,  of  course, 
some  little  danger  is  to  be  apprehended." 

"  And  haw  many  have  you  in  charge  ?" 

*'  At  present,  we  have  not  more  than  ten,  altogether." 

"  Prncipally  females,  I  presume  ?" 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER.       203 

*'  Oh,  no — every  one  of  them  men,  and  stout  fellows,  too,  I  caD 
Jell  you." 

"  Indeed  !  I  have  always  understood  that  the  majority  of 
lunatics  were  of  the  gentler  sex." 

"  It  is  generally  so,  but  not  always.  Some  time  ago,  there 
were  about  twenty-seven  patients  here  ;  and,  of  that  number,  no 
less  than  eighteen  were  women  ;  but,  lately,  matters  haye  changed 
very  much,  as  you  see." 

"  Yes — have  changed  very  much,  as  you  see,"  here  interrupted 
the  gentleman  who  had  broken  the  shins  of  Ma'mselle  Laplace. 

"  Yes — have  changed  very  much  as  you  see  !"  chimed  in  the 
whole  company  at  once. 

"  Hold  your  tongues,  every  one  of  you !"  said  my  host,  in  a 
great  rage.  Whereupon  the  whole  company  maintained  a  dead 
silence  for  nearly  a  minute.  As  for  one  lady,  she  obeyed  Mon 
sieur  Maillard  to  the  letter,  and  thrusting  out  her  tongue,  which 
was  an  excessively  long  one,  held  it  very  resignedly,  with  both 
hands,  until  the  end  of  the  entertainment. 

"  And  this  gentlewoman,"  said  I,  to  Monsieur  Maillard,  bending 
over  and  addressing  him  in  a  whisper — "  this  good  lady  who  ha.s 
just  spoken,  and  who  gives  us  the  cock-a-doodle-de-doo — she,  I 
presume,  is  harmless — quite  harmless,  eh?" 

"  Harmless !"  ejaculated  he,  in  unfeigned  surprise,  "  why — • 
why  what  can  you  mean  ?" 

"  Only  slightly  'touched  ?"  said  I,  touching  my  head.  "  I  take 
it  for  granted  that  she  is  not  particularly — not  dangerously  af- 
fected, eh  ?" 

"  Mon  Dieu!  what  is  it  you  imagine  ?  This  lady,  my  parti- 
cular old  friend,  Madame  Joyeuse,  is  as  absolutely  sane  as  my- 
self. She  has  her  little  eccentricities,  to  be  sure — but  then,  you 
know,  all  old  women — all  very  old  women  are  more  or  less 
eccentric !" 

"To  be  sure,"  said  I — "to  be  sure — and  then  the  rest  of  these 
ladies  and  gentlemen — " 

"  Are  my  friends  and  keepers,"  interrupted  Monsieur  Mail- 
lard. drawing  himself  up  with  hauteur — "  my  very  good  friend? 
rtnd  assistants.' 

"  What !  all  o°  them  ?"  I  asked — "  the  women  and  all  ?" 


2'J4   THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER. 

'•' Assmedly,"  he  said — "we  could  not  do  at  all  without  the 
women  ;  they  are  the  best  lunatic  nurses  in  the  world  ;  they  have 
a  way  of  their  own,  you  know ;  their  bright  eyes  have  a  marvel- 
lous effect; — something  like  the  fascination  of  the  snake,  you 
know." 

"  To  be  sure, '  said  I — "  to  be  sure !  They  behave  a  little 
odd,  eh  ?-^they  are  a  little  queer,  eh  ? — don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  Odd  ! — queer  ! — why,  do  you  really  think  so  ?  We  are  not 
very  prudish,  to  be  sure,  here  in  the  South — do  pretty  much  as 
we  please — enjoy  life,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  you  know — " 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  I — "  to  be  sure." 

"  And  then,  perhaps,  this  Olos  de  Vougeot  is  a  little  heady,  you 
know — a  little  strong — you  understand,  eh  ?" 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  I — "  to  be  sure.  By-the-by,  monsieur, 
did  I  understand  you  to  say  that  the  system  you  have  adopted,  in 
place  of  the  celebrated  soothing  system,  was  one  of  very  rigorous 
severity  ?" 

"  By  no  means.  Our  confinement  is  necessarily  close ;  but 
the  treatment — the  medical  treatment,  I  mean — is  rather  agreea- 
ble to  the  patients  than  otherwise." 

"  And  the  new  system  is  one  of  your  own  invention  ?" 

"  Not  altogether.  Some  portions  of  it  are  referable  to  Profes- 
sor Tarr,  of  whom  you  have,  necessarily,  heard  ;.  and,  again, 
there  are  modifications  in  my  plan  which  I  am  happy  to  acknow- 
ledge as  belonging  of  right  to  the  celebrated  Pether,  with  whom, 
if  I  mistake  not,  you  have  the  honor  of  an  intimate  acquaintance." 

"  I  am  quite  ashamed  to  confess,"  I  replied,  "  that  I  have 
never  even  heard  the  name  of  either  gentleman  before." 

"  Good  Heavens  !"  ejaculated  my  host,  drawing  back  his  chair 
abruptly,  and  uplifting  his  hands.  "  I  surely  do  not  hear  you 
aright !  You  did  not  intend  to  say,  eh  ?  that  you  had  never 
heard  either  of  the  learned  Doctor  Tarr,  or  of  the  celebrated 
Professor  Fether  ?" 

"  I  am  forced  to  acknowledge  my  ignorance,"  I  replied ;  "  but 
the  truth  should  be  held  inviolate  above  all  things.  Neverthe- 
less, I  feel  humbled  to  the  dust,  not  to  be  acquainted  with  the  works 
of  these,  no  doubt,  extraordinary  men.  I  will  seek  out  their  writ- 
ings forthwith,  and  peruse  them  with  deliberate  care.  Monsieur 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  1  VRR  AND  PROF.  FETHER.       205 

Maillard,  you  have  really — I  must  confess  it — you  have  really— 
made  me  ashamed  of  myself !" 

And  this  was  the  fact. 

"  Say  no  more,  my  good  young  friend,"  he  said  kindly,  press* 
ing  my  hand — "join  me  now  in  a  glass  of  Sauterne." 

We  drank.  The  company  followed  our  example,  without 
stint.  They  chatted — they  jested — they  laughed — they  perpe- 
trated a  thousand  absurdities — the  fiddles  shrieked — the  drum 
ro\v-de-do\ved — the  trombones  bellowed  like  so  many  brazen 
bulls  of  Phalaris — and  the  whole  scene,  growing  gradually  worse 
and  worse,  as  the  wines  gained  the  ascendancy,  became  at  length 
a  sort  of  Pandemonium  in  petto.  In  the  meantime,  Monsieur 
Maillard  and  myself,  with  some  bottles  of  Sauterne  and  Vougeot 
between  us,  continued  our  conversation  at  the  top  of  the  voice. 
A  word  spoken  in  an  ordinary  ke}  stood  no  more  chance  of  be- 
ing heard  than  the  voice  of  a  fish  from  the  bottom  of  Niagara 
Falls. 

"  And,  sir,"  said  I,  screaming  in  his  ear,  "  you  mentioned 
something  before  dinner,  about  the  danger  incurred  in  the  old 
system  of  soothing.  How  is  that?" 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  there  was,  occasionally,  very  great  dan 
ger,  indeed.  There  is  no  accounting  for  the  caprices  of  mad- 
men ;  and,  in  my  opinion,  as  well  as  in  that  of  Doctor  Tarr  and 
Professor  Fether,  it  is  never  safe  to  permit  them  to  run  at  large 
unattended.  A  lunatic  may  be  '  soothed,'  as  it  is  called,  for  a 
time,  but,  in  the  end,  he  is  very  apt  to  become  obstreperous 
His  cunning,  too,  is  proverbial,  and  great.  If  he  has  a  project  in 
view,  he  conceals  his  design  with  a  marvellous  wisdom ;  and  the 
dexterity  with  which  he  counterfeits  sanity,  presents,  to  the  meta- 
physician, one  of  the  most  singular  problems  in  the  study  of 
mind.  When  a  madman  appears  thoroughly  sane,  indeed,  it  is 
high  time  to  put  him  in  a  straight  jacket." 

"  But  the  danger,  my  dear  sir,  of  which  you  were  speaking — 
in  your  own  experience — during  your  control  of  this  house — 
have  you  had  practical  reason  to  think  liberty  hazardous,  in  tha 
ease  of  a  lunatic  ?" 

"  Here  ? — in  my  own  experience  ? — why,  I  may  say,  yes.    For 


20G      THE  SI  STEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER 

example : — no  very  long  while  ago,  a  singular  circumstance  oc 
curred  in  this  very  house.  The  '  soothing  system,'  you  know, 
was  then  in  operation,  and  the  patients  were  at  large.  They 
behaved  remarkably  well — especially  so — any  one  of  sense  might 
have  known  that  some  devilish  scheme  was  brewing  from  that 
particular  fact,  that  the  fellows  behaved  so  remarkably  well.  And, 
sure  enough,  one  fine  morning  the  keepers  found  themselves 
pinioned  hand  and  foot,  and  thrown  into  the  cells,  where  they 
were  attended,  as  if  they  were  the  lunatics,  by  the  lunatics  them  • 
selves,  who  had  usurped'the  offices  of  the  keepers." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  so !  I  never  heard  of  anything  so  absurd 
in  my  life !" 

"  Fact — it  all  came  to  pass  by  means  of  a  stupid  fellow — a 
lunatic — who,  by  some  means,  had  taken  it  into  his  head  that  he 
had  invented  a  better  system  of  government  than  any  ever  heard 
of  before — of  lunatic  government,  I  mean.  He  wished  to  give 
his  invention  a  trial,  I  suppose — and  so  he  persuaded  the  rest  of 
the  patients  to  join  him  in  a  conspiracy  for  the  overthrow  of  the 
reigning  powers." 

"  And  he  really  succeeded  ?" 

u  No  doubt  of  it.  The  keepers  and  kept  were  soon  made  to 
exchange  places.  Not  that  exactly  either — for  the  madmen  had 
been  free,  but  the  keepers  were  shut  up  in  cells  forthwith,  and 
'treated,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  in  a  very  cavalier  manner." 

"  But  I  presume  a  counter  revolution  was  soon  effected.  This 
condition  of  things  could  not  have  long  existed.  The  country 
people  in  the  neighborhood — visitors  coming  to  see  the  establish- 
ment— would  have  given  the  alarm." 

"  There  you  are  out.  The  head  rebel  was  too  cunning  for 
that.  He  admitted  no  visitors  at  all — with  the  exception,  one 
day,  of  a  very  stupid-looking  young  gentleman  of  whom  he  had 
no  reason  to  be  afraid.  He  let  him  in  to  see  the  place — just  by 
way  of  variety — to  have  a  little  fun  with  him.  As  soon  as  he 
had  gammoned  him  sufficiently,  he  let  him  out,  and  sen'  him 
about  his  business." 

"  And  how  long,  then,  did  the  madmen  reign  ?" 

"  Oh,  a  very  long  time,  indeed — a  month  certainly — how  much 
longer  I  can't  precisely  say.  In  the  mean  time,  the  lunatics  had 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER.       207 

a  jolly  season  of  it — that  you  may  swear.  They  doffed  their  own 
shabby  clothes,  and  made  free  with  the  family  wardrobe  and 
jewel*.  The  cellars  of  the  chateau  were  well  stocked  with  wine  ; 
and  these  madmen  are  just  the  devils  that  know  how  to  drink  it. 
They  lived  well,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  And  the  treatment — what  was  the  particular  species  of  treat- 
ment which  the  leader  of  the  rebels  put  into  operation  ?" 

"  Why,  as  for  that,  a  madman  is  not  necessarily  a  fool,  as  I 
have  already  observed ;  and  it  is  my  honest  opinion  that  his 
treatment  was  a  much  better  treatment  than  that  which  it  super- 
seded. It  was  a  very  capital  system  indeed — simple — neat — no 
trouble  at  all — in  fact  it  was  delicious — it  was — " 

Here  my  host's  observations  were  cut  short  by  another  series 
of  yells,  of  the  same  character  as  those  which  had  previously  dis- 
concerted us.  This  time,  however,  they  seemed  to  proceed  from 
persons  rapidly  approaching. 

"  Gracious  Heavens  !"  I  ejaculated — u  the  lunatics  have  most 
undoubtedly  broken  loose." 

"  I  very  much  fear  it  is  so,"  replied  Monsieur  Maillard,  now 
becoming  excessively  pale.  He  had  scarcely  finished  the  sen- 
tence, before  loud  shouts  and  imprecations  were  heard  beneath 
the  windows  ;  and,  immediately  afterward,  it  became  evident  that 
some  persons  outside  were  endeavoring  to  gain  entrance  into  the 
room.  The  door  was  beaten  with  what  appeared  to  be  a  sledge- 
hammer, and  the  shutters  were  wrenched  and  shaken  with  pro- 
digious violence. 

A  scene  of  the  most  terrible  confusion  ensued.  Monsieur 
Maillard,  to  my  excessive  astonishment,  threw  himself  under  the 
sideboard.  I  had  expected  more  resolution  at  his  hands.  The 
members  of  the  orchestra,  who,  for  the  last  fifteen  minutes,  had 
been  seemingly  too  much  intoxicated  to  do  duty,  now  sprang  all  at 
once  to  their  feet  and  to  their  instruments,  and,  scrambling  upon 
their  table,  broke  out,  with  one  accord,  into  "  Yankee  Doodle," 
which  they  performed,  if  not  exactly  in  tune,  at  least  with  an  en- 
ergy superhuman,  during  the  whole  of.the  uproar. 

Meantime,  upon  the  main  dining-tablc,  among  the  bottles 
and  glasses,  leaped  the  gentleman,  who,  with  such  difficulty,  had 
been  restrained  from  leaping  there  before.  As  soon  as  he  fairly 


208      THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PIIOF.   FETHER. 

settled  himself,  he  commenced  an  oration,  which,  no  doubt,  was  a 
very  capital  one,  if  it  could  only  have  been  heard.  At  the  same 
moment,  the  man  with  the  tee-totum  predilections,  set  himself  to 
spinning  around  the  apartment,  with  immense  energy,  and  with 
arms  outstretched  at  right  angles  with  his  body ;  so  that  he  had  all 
the  air  of  a  tee-totum  in  fact,  and  knocked  every  body  down  that 
happened  to  get  in  his  way.  And  now,  too,  hearing  an  incredi- 
ble popping  and  fizzing  of  champagne,  I  discovered  at  length,  that 
it  proceeded  from  the  person  who  performed  the  bottle  of  that 
delicate  drink  during  dinner.  And  then,  again,  the  frog-man 
croaked  away  as  if  the  salvation  of  his  soul  depended  upon  every 
note  that  he  uttered.  And,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  the  continu- 
ous braying  of  a  donkey  arose  over  all.  As  for  my  old  friend, 
Madame  Joyeuse,  I  really  could  have  wept  for  the  poor  lady,  she 
appeared  so  terribly  perplexed.  All  she  did,  however,  was  to 
stand  up  in  a  corner,  by  the  fire-place,  and  sing  out  incessantly, 
at  the  top  of  her  voice,  "  Cock-a-doodle-de-dooooooh  !"" 

And  now  came  the  climax — the  catastrophe  of  the  drama.  As 
no  resistance,  beyond  whooping  and  yelling  and  cock-a-doodle- 
ing,  was  offered  to  the  encroachments  of  the  party  without,  the 
ten  windows  were  very  speedily,  and  almost  simultaneously, 
broken  in.  But  I  shall  never  forget  the  emotions  of  wonder  and 
horror  with  which  I  gazed,  when,  leaping  through  these  windows, 
and  down  among  us  pele-mele,  fighting,  stamping,  scratching,  and 
howling,  there  rushed  a  perfect  army  of  what  I  took  to  be  Chim 
panzees,  Ourang-Outangs,  or  big  black  baboons  of  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope. 

I  received  a  terrible  beating — after  which  I  rolled  under  a 
jofa  and  lay  still.  After  lying  there  some  fifteen  minutes,  how 
ever,  during  which  time  I  listened  with  all  my  ears  to  what  was 
going  on  in  the  room,  I  came  to  some  satisfactory  denouement  of 
this  tragedy.  Monsieur  Maillard,  it  appeared,  in  giving  me 
the.  account  of  the  lunatic  who  had  excited  his  fellows  to  rebel- 
lion, had  been  merely  relating  his  own  exploits.  This  gentleman 
had,  indeed,  some  two  or  three  years  before,  been  the  superin 
lendent  of  the  establishment ;  but  grew  crazy  himself,  and  so 
became  a  patient.  This  fact  was  unknown  to  the  travelling  com- 
panion who  introduced  me.  The  keepers,  ten  in  number,  having 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  DR.  TARR  AND  PROF.  FETHER.       209 

been  suddenly  overpowered,  were  first  well  tarred,  then  carefully 
feathered,  and  then  shut  up  in  underground  cells.  They  had 
been  so  imprisoned  for  more  than  a  month,  during  which  period 
Monsieur  Maillard  had  generously  allowed  them  not  only  the  tar 
and  feathers  (which  constituted  his  "  system"),  but  some  bread 
and  abundance  of  water.  The  latter  was  pumped  on  them  daily. 
At  length,  one  escaping  through  a  sewer,  gave  freedom  to  all  the 
rest. 

The  "  soothing  system,"  with  important  modifications,  has  been 
resumed  at  the  chateau  ;  yet  I  cannot  help  agreeing  with  Mon- 
sieur Maillard,  that  his  own  "  treatment"  was  a  very  capital  one 
of  its  kind.  As  he  justly  observed,  it  was  "simple — neat — and 
gave  no  trouble  at  all — not  the  least." 

I  have  only  to  add  that,  although  I  have  searched  every  library 
in  Europe  for  the  \\  orks  of  Doctor  Tarr  and  Professor  Fether,  I 
have,  up  to  the  present  day,  utterly  failed  iu  my  endeavors  at 
procuring  an  edition. 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ. 

LATE    EDITOR    OF    THE    "  GOOSETHERUMFOOULE." 
BY       HIMSELF. 


1  AM  now  growing  in  years,  and — since  I  understand  that 
Shakespeare  and  Mr.  Emmons  are  deceased — it  is  not  impossible 
that  1  may  even  die.  It  has  occurred  to  me,  therefore,  that  1 
may  as  well  retire  from  the  field  of  Letters  and  repose  upon  my 
laurels.  But  I  am  ambitious  of  signalizing  my  abdication  of  the 
literary  sceptre  by  some  important  bequest  to  posterity ;  and, 
perhaps,  I  cannot  do  a  better  thing  than  just  pen  for  it  an  account 
of  my  earlier  career.  My  name,  indeed,  has  been  so  long  and  so 
constantly  before  the  public  eye,  that  I  am  not  only  willing  to 
admit  the  naturalness  of  the  interest  which  it  has  everywhere  ex- 
cited, but  ready  to  satisfy  the  extreme  curiosity  which  it  has 
inspired.  In  fact,  it  is  no  more  than  the  duty  of  him  who  achieve? 
greatness  to  leave  behind  him,  in  his  ascent,  such  landmarks  as 
may  guide  others  to  be  great.  I  propose,  therefore,  in  the 
present  paper,  (which  I  had  some  idea  of  calling  "  Memoranda 
to  serve  for  the  Literary  History  of  America,")  to  give  a  detail 
of  those  important,  yet  feeble  and  tottering  first  steps,  by  which,  at 
length,  I  attained  the  high  road  to  the  pinnacle  of  human  renown. 

Of  one's  very  remote  ancestors  it  is  superfluous  to  say  much. 
My  father,  Thomas  Bob,  Esq.,  stood  for  many  years  at  the  sum- 
mit of  his  profession,  which  was  that  of  a  merchant-barber,  in  the 
ei!;y  of  Smug.  His  warehouse  was  the  resort  of  all  the  principal 
people  of  the  place,  and  especially  of  the  editorial  corps — a  body 
which  :nspires  all  about  it  with  profound  veneration  and  awe 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ.          211 

For  ray  own  part,  I  regarded  them  as  gods,  and  drank  in  with 
avidity  the  rich  wit  and  wisdom  which  continuously  flowed  from 
their  august  mouths  during  the  process  of  what  is  styled  "  lather." 
My  first  moment  of  positive  inspiration  must  be  dated  from  that 
ever-memorable  epoch,  when  the  brilliant  conductor  of  the  "  Gad- 
Fly,"  in  the  intervals  of  the  important  process  just  mentioned, 
recited  aloud,  before  a  conclave  of  our  apprentices,  an  inimitable 
poem  in  'honor  of  the  "Only  Genuine  Oil-of-Bob,"  (so  called 
from  its  talented  inventor,  my  father,)  and  for  which  effusion  the 
editor  of  the  "  Fly"  was  remunerated  with  a  regal  liberality,  by 
the  firm  of  Thomas  Bob  and  company,  merchant-barbers. 

The  genius  of  the  stanzas  to  the  "  Oil-of-Bob"  first  breathed 
into  me,  I  say,  the  divine  afflatus.  I  resolved  at  once  to  become 
a  great  man  and  to  commence  by  becoming  a  great  poet.  That 
very  evening  I  fell  upon  my  knees  at  the  feet  of  my  father. 

"  Father,"  I  said,  "  pardon  me ! — but  I  have  a  soul  above 
lather.  It  is  my  firm  intention  to  cut  the  shop.  I  would  be  an 
editor — I  would  be  a  poet — I  would  pen  stanzas  to  the  '  Oil-of- 
Bob.'  Pardon  me  and  aid  me  to  be  great!" 

"  My  dear  Thingum,"  replied  my  father,  (I  had  been  christ- 
ened Thingum  after  a  wealthy  relative  so  surnamed,)  "  My  dear 
Thingum,"  he  said,  raising  me  from  my  knees  by  the  ears — 
"  Thingum,  my  boy,  you're  a  trump,  and  take  after  your  father 
in  having  a  soul.  You  have  an  immense  head,  too,  and  it  must 
hold  a  great  many  brains.  This  I  have  long  seen,  and  therefore 
had  thoughts  of  making  you  a  lawyer.  The  business,  however, 
has  grown  ungenteel,  and  that  of  a  politician  don't  pay.  Upon 
the  whole  you  judge  wisely ; — the  trade  of  editor  is  best: — and 
if  you  can  be  a  poet  at  the  same  time, — as  most  of  the  editors  aref 
by  the.  by, — why  you  will  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone.  To 
encourage  you  in  the  beginning  of  things,  I  will  allow  you  a  gar- 
ret ;  pen,  ink  and  paper  ;  a  rhyming  dictionary  ;  and  a  copy  of 
the  *  Gad-Fly.'  I  suppose  you  would  scarcely  demand  any 
more." 

•'  I  would  be  an  ungrateful  villain  if  I  did,"  I  replied  with 
enthusiasm.  "  Your  generosity  is  boundless.  I  will  repay  it 
[>y  making  you  the  father  of  a  genius." 

Thus  ended  my  conference  with  the  best  of  men,  and  imrnedi 


212          THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ 

ately  upon  its  termination,  I  betook  myself  with  zeal  to  m^ 
poetical  labors ;  as  upon  these,  chiefly,  I  founded  my  hopes  of 
ultimate  elevation  to  the  editorial  chair. 

In  my  first  attempts  at  composition  I  found  the  stanzas  to  "The 
Oil-of-Bob"  rather  a  draw-back  than  otherwise.  Their  splendor 
more  dazzled  than  enlightened  me.  The  contemplation  of  their 
excellence  tended,  naturally,  to  discourage  me  by  comparison 
with  my  own  abortions ;  so  that  for  a  long  time  I  labored  in  vain. 
At  length  there  came  into  my  head  one  of  those  exquisitely  ori- 
ginal ideas  which  now  and  then  will  permeate  the  brain  of  a  man 
of  genius.  It  was  this : — or,  rather,  thus  was  it  carried  into 
execution.  From  the  rubbish  of  an  old  book-stall,  in  a  very 
remote  corner  of  the  town,  I  got  together  several  antique  and 
altogether  unknown  or  forgotten  volumes.  The  bookseller  sold 
them  to  me  for  a  song.  From  one  of  these,  which  purported  to 
be  a  translation  of  one  Dante's  "Inferno,"  I  copied  with  remark- 
able neatness  a  long  passage  about  a  man  named  Ugolino,  who 
had  a  parcel  of  brats.  From  another  which  contained  a  good 
many  old  plays  by  some  person  whose  name  I  forget,  I  extracted 
in  the  same  manner,  and  with  the  same  care,  a  great  number  of 
lines  about  "  angels"  and  "  ministers  saying  grace,"  and  "  goblins 
damned,"  and  more  besides  of  that  sort.  From  a  third,  which 
was  the  composition  of  some  blind  man  or  other,  either  a  Greek 
or  a  Choctaw — I  cannot  be  at  the  pains  of  remembering  every 
trifle  exactly — I  took  about  fifty  verses  beginning  with  "  Achilles' 
wrath,"  and  "  grease,"  and  something  else.  From  a  fourth, 
which  I  recollect  was  also  the  woi'k  of  a  blind  man,  I  selected  a 
page  or  two  all  about  "  hail"  and  "  holy  light ;"  and  although  a 
blind  man  has  no  business  to  write  about  light,  still  the  verses 
were  sufficiently  good  in  their  way. 

Having  made  fair  copies  of  these  poems  I  signed  every  one  of 
them  "  Oppodeldoc,"  (a  fine  sonorous  name,)  and,  doing  each  up 
nicely  in  a  separate  envelope,  I  despatched  one  to  each  of  the 
four  principal  Magazines,  with  a  request  for  speedy  insertion  and 
prompt  pay.  The  result  of  this  well  conceived  plan,  however, 
(the  success  of  which  would  have  saved  me  much  trouble  in  after 
life,)  served  to  convince  me  that  some  editors  are  not  to  be  bam- 
boozled, and  gave  the  coup-de-grace  fas  they  say  in  France,)  tc 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ.          213 

my  nascent  hopes,   (as  they  say  in  the  city  of  the  transcenden- 
tals.) 

The  fact  is,  that  each  and  every  one  of  the  Magazines  in  ques- 
tion, gave  Mr.  "  Oppodeldoc"  a  complete  using-np,  in  the 
"  Monthly  Notices  to  Correspondents."  The  "  Hum-Drum"  gave 
him  a  dressing  after  this  fashion  : 

"  '  Oppodeldoc,'  (whoever  he  is,)  has  sent  us  a  long  tirade  concerning  a 
bedlamite  whom  he  styles  "  Ugolino,"  who  had  a  great  many  children  that 
should  have  been  all  whipped  and  sent  to  bed  without  their  suppers.  The 
whole  affair  is  exceedingly  tame — not  to  say  flat.  '  Oppodeldoc,'  (whoever 
he  is,)  is  entirely  devoid  of  imagination — and  imagination,  in  our  humble 
opinion,  is  not  only  the  soul  of  POESY,  but  also  its  very  heart.  '  Oppodeldoc,'' 
(whoever  he  is,)  has  the  audacity  to  demand  of  us,  for  his  twattle,  a  '  speedy 
insertion  and  prompt  pay.'  We  neither  insert  nor  purchase  any  stuff  of  the 
sort.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  he  would  meet  with  a  ready  sale 
for  all  the  balderdash  he  can  scribble,  at  the  office  of  cither  the  '  Rowdy- 
Dow,'  the  '  Lollipop,'  or  the  '  Goosetherumfoodle.'  " 

All  this,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  was  very  severe  upon 
"  Oppodeldoc" — but  the  unkindest  cut  was  putting  the  word 
POESY  in  small  caps.  In  those  five  pre-eminent  letters  what  a 
world  of  bitterness  is  there  not  involved ! 

But  "  Oppodeldoc"  was  punished  with  equal  severity  i»  the 

*  Rowdy- Dow,"  which  spoke  thus : 

"  We  have  received  a  most  singular  and  insolent  communication  from  a 
person,  (whoever  he  is,)  signing  himself  •  Oppodeldoc' — thus  desecrating  the 
greatness  of  the  illustrious  Roman  Emperor  so  named.  Accompanying  the 
letter  of '  Oppodeldoc,' (whoever  he  is,)  we  find  sundry  lines  of  most  uis- 
gusting  and  unmeaning  rant  about  '  angels  and  ministers  of  grace') — rant 
such  as  no  madman  short  of  a  Nat  Lee,  or  an  '  Oppodeldoc,'  could  possibly 
perpetrate.  And  for  this  trash  of  trash,  we  are  modestly  requested  to  '  pay 
promptly.'  No  sir — no!  We  pay  for  nothing  of  that  sort.  Apply  to  the 

•  Hum-Drum,'  the  '  Lollipop,'  or  the  ;  Goosetherumfoodle.'  These  periodicals 
will  undoubtedly  accept  any  literary  offal  you  may  send  them — and  as  un- 
doubtedly promise  to  pay  for  it." 

This  was  bitter  indeed  upon  poor  "  Oppodeldoc ;"  but,  in  thia 
instance,  the  weight  of  the  satire  falls  upon  the  "  Humdrum,"  the 
"  Lollipop,"  and  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle,"  who  are  pungently 
styled  "periodicals" — in  Italics,  too — a  thing  that  must  have  cu« 
them  to  the  heart. 


214          THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ. 

Scarcely  less  savage  was  the  "  Lollipop,"  which  thus  dis- 
coursed : 

"  Some  individual,  who  rejoices  in  the  appellation  '  Oppodeldoc,'  (to  what 
low  uses  are  the  names  of  the  illustrious  dead  too  often  applied  !)  has 
p.nclosed  us  some  fifty  or  sixty  verses  commencing  after  this  fashion  : 

Achilles'  wrath,  to  Greece  the  direful  spring 

Of  woes  unnumbered,  &c.,  &c.,  &c..  &c. 

"  Oppodeldoc.'  (whoever  he  is.)  is  respectfully  informed  that  there  is  not  a 
printer's  devil  in  our  office  who  is  not  in  the  daily  habit  of  composing  better 
lines.  Those  of  '  Oppodeldoc'  will  not  scan.  '  Oppodeldoc'  should  learn  to 
count.  But  why  he  should  have  conceived  the  idea  that  we,  (of  all  others, 
we!)  would  disgrace  our  pages  with  his  ineffable  nonsense  is  utterly  bn- 
vond  comprehension.  Why,  the  absurd  twattle  is  scarcely  good  enough  for 
the  '  Hum-Drum,'  the  '  Rowdy-Dow,'  the  '  Goosetherum foodie' — things  that 
are  in  the  practice  of  publishing  'Myher  Goose's  Melodies'  asorigin.il 
lyrics.  And  '  Oppodeldoc'  (whoever  he  is  )  has  even  the  assurance  to  de- 
mand pay  for  this  drivel.  Does  '  Oppodeldoc,'  (whoever  he  is,)  know — is  he 
aware  that  we  could  not  be  paid  to  insert  it  V 

As  I  perused  this  I  felt  myself  growing  gradually  smaller  and 
smaller,  and  when  I  came  to  the  point  at  which  the  editoi 
sneered  at  the  poem  as  "  verses"  there  was  little  more  than  an 
ounce  of  me  left.  As  for  "  Oppodeldoc,"  I  began  to  experience 
compassion  for  the  poor  fellow.  But  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle" 
showed,  if  possible,  less  mercy  than  the  "  Lollipop."  It  was  the 
"  Goosetherumfoodle"  that  said  : 

"  A  wretched  poetaster,  who  signs  himself  '  Oppodeldoc,'  is  silly  enough 
to  fancy  that  we  will  print  and  pay  for  a  medley  of  incoherent  and  ungrain- 
inatical  bombast  which  he  has  transmitted  to  us,  and  which  commences 
with  the  following  most  intelligible  line  : 

'  Hail,  Holy  Light !  Offspring  of  Heaven,  first  born.' 

"  We  say.  '  most  intelligible..'1  '  Oppodeldoc,'  (whoever  he  is,)  will  be  kind 
enough  to  tell  us,  perhaps,  how  '  hair  can  be  '  holy  light '  We  always  re- 
garded it  as  frozen  rain.  Will  he  inform  us,  also,  how  frozen  rain  can  be, 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  both  '  holy  light,'  (whatever  that  is,)  and  an  '  off- 
spring V — which  latter  term,  (if  we  understand  any  thing  about  English,)  is 
only  employed,  with  propriety,  in  reference  to  small  babies  of  about  six 
weeks  old.  But  it  is  preposterous  to  descant  upon  such  absurdity — although 
'  Oppodeldoc,'  (whoever  he  is,)  has  the  unparalleled  effrontery  to  suppose 
that  we  will  not  only  'insert'  his  ignrrant  ravings,  but  (absolutely)  pay  for 
them  ! 

"  Now  this  is  fine — it  is  rich  ! — and  we  have  half  a  mind  to  punish  this 
young  scribbler  for  his  egotism  by  really  publishing  his  effusion)  tirbi-'im 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ.  215 

et  literatim,  as  he  has  written  it.  We  could  inflict  no  punishment  so  severe, 
and  we  would  inflict  it,  hut  for  the  horedom  which  we  should  cause  our  read 
ers  in  so  doing. 

"  Let  '  Oppodeldoc,'  (whoever  he  is,)  send  any  future  composition  of  like 
character  to  the  '  Hum-Drum,'  the  '  Lollipop,'  or  the  '  Rowdy-Dow.'  They 
will  '  insert'  it.  They  '  insert'  every  month  just  such  stuff.  Send  it  to  them. 
WE  are  not  to  be  insulted  with  impunity.'' 

This  made  an  ond  of  me ;  and  as  for  the  "  Hum-Drum,"  tin1. 
"  Rowdy- Dow,"  and  the  "  Lollipop,"  I  never  could  comprehend 
ho\v  they  survived  it.  The  putting  them  in  the  smallest  possible 
minion,  (that  was  the  rub — thereby  insinuating  their  lowness — 
their  baseness,)  while  WE  stood  looking  down  upon  them  in 
gigantic  capitals  ! — oh  it  was  too  bitter  ! — it  was  wormwood — it 
was  gall.  Had  I  been  either  of  these  periodicals  I  would  have 
spared  no  pains  to  have  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle"  prosecuted. 
It  might  have  been  done  under  the  Act  for  the  "  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Animals."  As  for  u  Oppodeldoc,"  (whoever  he  was,) 
I  had  by  this  time  lost  all  patience  with  the  fellow,  and  sympa- 
thized with  him  no  longer.  He  was  a  fool,  beyond  doubt,  (who- 
ever he  was,)  and  got  not  a  kick  more  than  he  deserved. 

The  result  of  my  experiment  with  the  old  books,  convinced 
me,  in  the  first  place,  that  "  honesty  is  the  best  policy,"  and,  in 
the  second,  that  if  I  could  not  write  better  than  Mr.  Dante,  and 
the  two  blind  men,  and  the  rest  of  the  old  set,  it  would,  at  least, 
be  a  difficult  matter  to  write  worse.  I  took  heart,  therefore,  and 
delermined  to  prosecute  the  "  entirely  original,"  (as  they  say  on 
the  covers  of  the  magazines,)  at  whatever  cost  of  study  and 
pains.  I  again  placed  before  my  eyes,  as  a  model,  the  brilliant 
stanzas  on  "  The  Oil-of-Bob"  by  the  editor  of  the  "  Gad-Fly," 
and  resolved  to  construct  an  Ode  on  the  same  sublime  theme,  in 
rivalry  of  what  had  already  been  done. 

With  my  first  verse  I  had  no  material  difficulty.  It  ran  thus  . 
"  To  pen  an  Ode  upon  (fie  "  Oil-of-Bob." 

Having  carefully  looked  out,  however,  all  the  legitimate 
rhymes  to  "  Bob,"  I  found  it  impossible  to  proceed.  In  this 
dilemma  I  had  recourse  to  paternal  aid  ;  and,  after  some  hourd 
of  mature  thought,  my  father  and  myself  thus  constructed  the 
poem : 


216         THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ. 

"  To  pen  an  Ode  upon  the  "  Oil-of-Bob" 
Is  all  sorts  of  a  job. 

(Signed.)  SNOB. 

To  be  sure,  this  composition  was  of  no  very  great  length — but 
I  "have  yet  to  learn"  as  they  say  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  thai 
the  mere  extent  of  a  literary  work  has  any  thing  to  do  with  its 
merit.  As  for  the  Quarterly  cant  about  "sustained  effort,"  it  is 
impossible  to  see  the  sense  of  it.  Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  I 
was  satisfied  with  the  success  of  my  maiden  attempt,  and  now 
the  only  question  regarded  the  disposal  I  should  make  of  it.  My 
father  suggested  that  I  should  send  it  to  the  "  Gad-Fly" — but 
there  were  two  reasons  which  operated  to  prevent  me  from  so 
doing.  I  dreaded  the  jealousy  of  the  editor — and  I  had  ascer- 
tained that  he  did  not  pay  for  original  contributions.  I  there- 
fore, after  due  deliberation,  consigned  the  article  to  the  more 
dignified  pages  of  the  "  Lollipop,"  and  awaited  the  event  in 
anxiety,  but  with  resignation. 

In  the  very  next  published  number  I  had  the  proud  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  my  poem  printed  at  length,  as  the  leading  article, 
with  the  following  significant  words,  prefixed  in  italics  and  be- 
tween brackets : 

[  We  call  the  attention  of  our  readers  to  the  subjoined  admirable  stanzas  on 
"  77te  Oil  of  Hob."  We  need  say  noth  ing  of  their  sublimity,  or  of  their  pathos : — • 
it  is  impossible  to  peruse  them  without  tears.  Those  who  have  been  nauseated 
ivitha  sad  dose  on  the  same  august  topic  from  the  goose-quill  of  the  editor  of  the 
"  Gild-Fly"  will  do  well  to  compare  the  two  compositions. 

P.  S.  We  are  consumed  ivith  anxiety  to  probe  the  mystery  ti'hicJi  envelops  the 
evident  pseudonym  "  Snob.'1''  May  we  hope  for  a  personal  interview  ?] 

All  this  was  scarcely  more  than  justice,  but  it  was,  I  confess, 
rather  more  than  I  had  expected : — I  acknowledged  this,  be  it 
observed,  to  the  everlasting  disgrace  of  my  country  and  of  man- 
kind. I  lost  no  time,  however,  in  calling  upon  the  editor  of  the 
"  Lollipop,"  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  this  gentleman  at 
home.  He  saluted  me  with  an  air  of  profound  respect,  slightly 
blended  with  a  fatherly  and  patronizing  admiration,  wrought  in 
him,  no  doubt,  by  my  appearance  of  extreme  youth  and  inexpe- 
rience. Begging  me  to  be  seated,  he  entered  at  once  upon  the 
subject  of  my  poem  ; — but  modesty  will  ever  forbid  me  to  repeat 
the  thousand  compliments  which  he  lavished  upon  me.  The 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  TH1NGUM    BOB,  ESQ.          217 

eulogies  of  Mr.  Crab,  (such  was  the  editor's  name,)  were,  how- 
ever, by  no  means  fulsomely  indiscriminate.  He  analyzed  my 
composition  with  much  freedom  and  great  ability — not  hesitating 
to  point  out  a  few  trivial  defects — a  circumstance  which  elevated 
"him  highly  in  my  esteem.  The  "  Gad-Fly"  was,  of  course, 
brought  upon  the  tapis,  and  I  hope  never  to  be  subjected  to  a 
criticism  so  searching,  or  to  rebukes  so  withering,  as  were  be- 
stowed by  Mr.  Crab  upon  that  unhappy  effusion.  I  had  been 
accustomed  to  regard  the  editor  of  the  "  Gad-Fly"  as  something 
superhuman  ;  but  Mr.  Crab  soon  disabused  me  of  that  idea.  He 
set  the  literary  as  well  as  the  personal  character  of  the  Fly  (so 
Mr.  C.  satirically  designated  the  rival  editor,)  in  its  true  light. 
He,  the  Fly,  was  very  little  better  than  he  should  be.  He  had 
written  infamous  things.  He  was  a  penny-a-liner,  and  a  buffoon. 
He  was  a  villain.  He  had  composed  a  tragedy  which  set  the 
whole  country  in  a  guffaw,  and  a  farce  which  deluged  the  uni- 
verse in  tears.  Besides  all  this,  he  had  the  impudence  to  pen 
what  he  meant  for  a  lampoon  upon  himself,  (Mr.  Crab,)  and  the 
temerity  to  style  him  "  an  ass."  Should  I  at  any  time  wish  to 
express  my  opinion  of  Mr.  Fry,  the  pages  of  the  "  Lollipop," 
Mr.  Crab  assured  me,  were  at  my  unlimited  disposal.  In  the 
meantime,  as  it  was  very  certain  that  I  would  be  attacked  in  the 
Fly  for  my  attempt  at  composing  a  rival  poem  on  the  "  Oil-of- 
Uob,"  he  (Mr.  Crab,)  would  take  it  upon  himself  to  attend, 
pointedly,  to  my  private  and  personal  interests.  If  I  were  not 
made  a  man  of  at  once,  it  should  not  be  the  fault  of  himself,  (Mr. 
Grab.) 

Mr.  Crab  having  now  paused  in  his  discourse,  (the  latter  por- 
tion of  which  I  found  it  impossible  to  comprehend,)  I  ventured 
to  suggest  something  about  the  remuneration  which  I  had  been 
taught  to  expect  for  my  poem,  by  an  announcement  on  the  cover 
of  the  ''Lollipop,"  declaring  that  it,  (the  "Lollipop,")  "insisted 
upon  being  permitted  to  pay  exorbitant  prices  for  all  accepted 
contributions  ; — frequently  expending  more  money  foi  a  single 
lirief  poem  than  the  whole  annual  cost  of  the  'Hum-Drum,'  the 
'  Rowdy-Dow,'  and  the  '  Goosetherumfoodle'  combined." 

As  I  mentioned  the  word  "  remuneration,"  Mr.  Crab  first 
jpencd  his  eyes,  and  then  his  mouth,  to  quite  a  remarkable  ex- 


218         THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ. 

tent;  causing  his  personal  appearance  to  resemble  that  of  a 
highly-agitated  elderly  duck  in  the  act  of  quacking ; — and  in  this 
condition  he  remained,  (ever  and  anon  pressing  his  hands  tightly 
to  his  forehead,  as  if  in  a  state  of  desperate  bewilderment)  until 
I  had  nearly  made  an  end  of  what  I  had  to  say. 

Upon  my  conclusion,  he  sank  back  into  his  seat,  as  if  much 
overcome,  letting  his  arms  fall  lifelessly  by  his  side,  but  keeping 
his  mouth  still  rigorously  open,  after  the  fashion  of  the  duck. 
While  I  remained  in  speechless  astonishment  at  beha^iov  so 
alarming,  he  suddenly  leaped  to  his  feet  and  made  a  rush  at  the 
bell-rope ;  but  just  as  he  reached  this,  he  appeared  to  have 
altered  his  intention,  whatever  it  \vas,  for  he  dived  under  a  table 
and  immediately  re-appeared  with  a  cudgel.  This  he  was  in  the 
act  of  uplifting,  (for  what  purpose  I  am  at  a  loss  to  imagine,) 
when,  all  at  once,  there  came  a  benign  smile  over  his  features, 
and  he  sank  placidly  back  in  his  chair. 

"  Mr.  Bob,"  he  said,  (for  I  had  sent  up  my  card  before  as- 
cending myself,)  "  Mr.  Bob,  you  are  a  young  man,  I  presume — 
very  ?" 

I  assented;  adding  that  I  had  not  yet  concluded  my  third 
lustrum. 

;<  Ah !"  he  replied,  "  very  good !  I  see  how  it  is — say  no 
more  !  Touching  this  matter  of  compensation,  what  you  observe 
is  very  just :  in  fact  it  is  excessively  so.  But  ah — ah — the  first 
contribution — the  first,  I  say — it  is  never  the  Magazine  custom 
to  pay  for — you  comprehend,  eh  ?  The  truth  is,  we  are  usually 
the  recipients  in  such  case."  [Mr.  Crab  smiled  blandly  as  he 
emphasized  the  word  "  recipients/']  "  For  the  most  part,  we 
are  paid  for  .the  insertion  of  a  maiden  attempt — especially  in 
verse.  In  the  second  place,  Mr.  Bob,  the  Magazine  rule  is  never 
to  disburse  what  we  term  in  France  the  argent  comptant: — 1 
have  no  doubt  you  understand.  In  a  quarter  or  two  after  publica- 
tion of  the  article — or  in  a  year  or  two — we  make  no  objection 
to  giving  our  note  at  nine  months  : — provided  always  that  we  can 
FO  arrange  our  affairs  as  to  be  quite  certain  of  a  '  burst  up'  in 
six.  I  really  do  hope,  Mr.  Bob,  that  you  will  look  upon  this  ex- 
planation as  satisfactory."  Here  Mr.  Crab  concluded,  and  tl>« 
tears  stood  in  his  eyes. 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THING UM    BUB,  ESQ.          219 

Grieved  to  the  soul  at  having  been,  however  innocently,  the 
pause  of  pain  to  so  eminent  and  so  sensitive  a  man,  I  hastened  to 
apologize,  and  to  reassure  him,  by  expressing  my  perfect  coinci- 
dence with  his  views,  as  well  as  my  entire  appreciation  of  the 
lelicacy  of  his  position.  Having  done  all  this  in  a  neat  speech, 
t  took  leave. 

One  fine  morning,  very  shortly  afterwards,  "  I  awoke  and 
bund  myself  famous."  The  extent  of  my  renown  will  be  best 
jstimated  by  reference  to  the  editorial  opinions  of  the  day.  These 
opinions,  it  will  be  seen,  were  embodied  in  critical  notices  of  the 
/lumber  of  the  "  Lollipop"  containing  my  poem,  and  are  perfectly 
satisfactory,  conclusive  and  clear  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of 
the  hieroglyphical  marks,  "  Sep.  15 — 1  t."  appended  to  each  of 
the  critiques. 

The  "  Owl,"  a  journal  of  profound  sagacity,  and  well  known 
for  the  deliberate  gravity  of  its  literary  decisions — the  "  Owl," 
I  say,  spoke  as  follows : 

•' '  THE  LOLLIPOP  !'  The  October  number  of  this  delicious  Magazine 
surpasses  its  predecessors,  and  sets  competition  at  defiance.  In  the  beauty 
of  its  typography  and  paper — in  the  number  and  excellence  of  its  steel 
plates — as  well  as  in  the  literary  merit  of  its  contributions — the  '  Lollipop' 
compares  with  its  slow-paced  rivals  as  Hyperion  with  a  Satyr.  The  'Hum- 
Drum,'  the  '  Rowdy-Dow,'  and  the  '  Goosetheru'mfoodle,'  excel,  it  is  true, 
in  braggadocio,  but.  in  all  other  points,  give  us  the  '  Lollipop !'  How  this 
celebrated  journal  can  sustain  its  evidently  tremendous  expenses,  is  more 
than  we  can  understand.  To  be  sure,  it  has  a  circulation  of  J  00, 000,  and 
its  subscription-list  has  increased  one-fourth  during  the  last  month  ;  but.  on 
the  other  hand,  the  sums  it  disburses  constantly  for  contributions  are  incon- 
ceivable. It  is  reported  that  Mr.  Slyass  received  no  less  than  thirty-seven 
and  a  half  cents  for  his  inimitable  paper  on  '  Pigs.'  With  Mr.  CRAB,  as 
editor,  and  with  such  names  upon  the  list  of  contributors  as  SNOB  and  Sly- 
ass,  there  can  be  no  such  word  as  '  fail'  for  the  '  Lollipop.'  Go  and  sub 
scribe.  Sep.  15 — 1  t." 

I  must  say  that  I  was  gratified  with  this  high-toned  notice 
from  a  paper  so  respectable  as  the  "  Owl."  The  placing  my 
name — that  is  to  say,  my  nom  de  guerre — in  priority  of  station 
to  that  of  the  great  Slyass,  was  a  compliment  as  happy  as  I  felt 
it  to  be  deserved. 

My  attention  was   next  arrested  by  these  paragraphs  in  the 


220          THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB    ESQ. 

'•  Toad  " — a  print  highly  distinguished  tor  its  uprightness,  an^ 
independence — for  its  entire  freedom  from  sycophancy  and  sub-' 
servience  to  the  givers  of  dinners : 

"  The  '  Lollipop'  for  October  is  out  in  advance  of  all  its  contemporaries, 
and  infinitely  surpasses  them,  of  course,  in  the  splendor  of  i*  embellish- 
ments, as  well  as  in  the  richness  of  its  literary  contents.  The  '  Hum- 
Drum,'  the  '  Rowdy-Dow,'  and  the  '  Goosetherumfoodle'  excel,  we  admit, 
in  braggadocio,  but,  in  all  other  points,  give  us  the  '  Lollipop.'  How  this 
celebrated  Magazine  can  sustain  its  evidently  tremendous  expenses,  is  more 
than  we  can  understand.  To  be  sure,  it  has  a  circulation  of  200,000,  and 
its  subscription  list  has  increased  one-third  during  the  last  fortnight,  but  on 
the  other  hand,  the  sums  it  disburses,  monthly,  for  contributions,  are  fear- 
fully great.  We  learn  that  Mr.  Mumblethumb  received  no  less  than  fifty 
cents  for  his  late  '  Monody  in  a  Mud-Puddle.' 

"  Among  the  original  contributors  to  the  present  number  we  notice,  (be- 
sides the  eminent  editor,  Mr.  CRAB,)  such  men  as  SNOB,  Slyass,  and  Mum- 
blethumb. Apart  from  the  editorial  matter,  the  most  valuable  paper,  never- 
theless, is,  we  think,  a  poetical  gem  by  '  Snob,  on  the  '  Oil-of-Bob' — but 
our  readers  must  not  suppose  from  the  title  of  this  incomparable  bijou,  that 
it  bears  any  similitude  to  some  balderdash  on  the  same  subject  by  a  certain 
lontemptible  individual  whose  name  is  unmentionable  to  ears  polite.  The 
present  poem  '  On  the  Oil-of-Boh.'  has  excited  universal  anxiely  and  curi- 
osity in  respect  to  the  owner  of  the  evident  pseudonym,  '  Snob' — a  curiosity 
which,  happily,  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  satisfy.  '  Snob'  is  the  nom-dc- 
p/iimc  of  Mr.  Thingum  .Bob,  of  this  city, — a  relative  of  the  great  Mr 
Tliingum,  (after  whom  he  is  named.)  and  otherwise  connected  with  the 
•nost  illustrious  families  of  the  State.  His  father,  Thomas  Bob,  Esq.,  is  an 
opulent  merchant  in  Smug.  Sep.  15 — 1  £." 

This  generous  approbation  touched  me  to  the  heart — tne  more 
especially  as  it  emanated  from  a  source  so  avowedly — so  pro- 
verbially pure  as  the  "  Toad."  The  word  '•  balderdash,"  as 
applied  to  the  "  Oil-of-Bob"  of  the  Fly,  I  considered  singularly 
pungent  and  appropriate.  The  words  "  gem "  and  "  bijou" 
however,  used  in  reference  to  my  composition,  struck  me  .as 
being,  in  some  degree,  feeble.  They  seemed  to  me  to  be  defi- 
cient in  force.  They  were  not  sufficiently  prononcis,  (as  we 
have  it  in  France). 

I  had  hardly  finished  reading  the  "  Toad,"  when  a  friend 
placed  in  my  hands  a  copy  of  the  "  Mole,"  a  daily,  enjoying 
high  reputation  for  the  keenness  of  its  perception  about  matters 
in  general,  and  foi  the  open,  honest,  abnve-ground  style  of  its1 


THE  LlTEitARY  LIFE  OF    PHINGUM  BOB,  ESQ.          221 

editorials.      The    "Mole"   spoke   of   the    "  Lollipop"    as   fol- 
lows : 

"  We  have  ji'st  received  the  '  Lollipop'  for  October,  and  must  say  that 
never  before  have  we  perused  any  single  number  of  any  periodical  which 
afforded  us  a  felicity  so  supreme.  We  speak  advisedly.  .  The  '  Hum-Drum,' 
the  '  Rowdy-Dow'  and  the  '  Goosetherumfoodle'  must  look  well  to  their 
laurels.  These  prints,  no  doubt,  surpass  every  thing  in  loudness  of  preten- 
sion, but,  in  all  other  points,  give  us  the  '  Lollipop  !'  How  this  celebrated 
Magazine  can  sustain  its  evidently  tremendous  expenses,  is  more  than  we 
can  comprehend.  To  be  sure,  it  has  a  circulation  of  300.000  ;  and  its  sub- 
scription-list has  increased  one-half  within  the  last  week,  but  then  the  sum 
it  disburses,  monthly,  for  contributions,  is  astoundingly  enormous.  We 
have  it  upon  good  authority,  that  Mr.  Fatquack  received  no  less  than  sixty- 
two  cents  and  a  half  for  his  late  Domestic  Nouvelette,  the  '  Dish-Clout.' 

"  The  contributors  to  the  number  before  us  are  Mr  CRAB,  (the  eminent 
editor,)  SNOB,  Mumblethumb,  Fatquack,  and  others  ;  but,  after  the  inimita 
ble  compositions  of  the  editor  himself,  we  prefer  a  diamond-like  effusion 
from  the  pen  of  a  rising  poet  who  writes  over  the  signature  '  Snob' — a 
nom  de  guerre  which  we  predict  will  one  day  extinguish  the  radiance  of 
'  Boz.'  "  SNOB,'  we  learn,  is  a  Mr.  THINGUM  BOB,  Esq.,  sole  heir  of  a 
wealthy  merchant  of  this  city,  Thomas  Bob,  Esq.,  and  a  near  relative  of  the 
distinguished  Mr.  Thingum.  The  title  of  Mr.  B.'s  admirable  poem  is  the 
'  Oil-of-Bob' — a  somewhat  unfortunate  name,  by-the-by,  as  some  contempt- 
ible vagabond  connected  with  the  penny  press  has  already  disgusted  the 
town  with  a  great  deal  of  drivel  upon  the  same  topic.  There  will  be  no 
danger,  however,  of  confounding  the  compositions.  Sep.  15 — I  t." 

The  generous  approbation  of  so  clear-sighted  a  journal  as  the 
"  Mole"  penetrated  my  soul  with  delight.  The  only  objection 
which  occurred  to  me  was,  that  the  terms  "  contemptible  vaga- 
bond" might  have  been  better  written  "  odious  and  contemptible, 
wretch,  villain  and  vagabond."  This  would  have  sounded  more 
gracefully,  I  think.  "  Diamond-like,"  also,  was  scarcely,  it  will 
be  admitted,  of  sufficient  intensity  to  express  what  the  "  Mole  " 
evidently  thought  of  the  brilliancy  of  the  "  Oil-of-Bob." 

On  the  same  afternoon  in  which  I  saw  these  notices  in  the 
**O\vl,"  the  "  Toad,"  and  the  "Mole"  I  happened  to  meet  with 
a  copy  of  the  "  Daddy-Long- Legs,"  «,  periodical  proverbial  for 
the  extreme  extent  of  its  understanding.  And  it  was  the  "  Dad 
tly-Long-Legs"  which  spoke  thus  : 

"  The  '  Lollipop' !  !  This  gorgeous  Magazine  is  already  before  the  pub. 
lie  for  October.  The  question  of  ore-eminence  is  forever  put  to  rest,  and 


222          THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THIXGUM  BOB,  KSy. 

hereafter  it  will  be  excessively  preposterous  in  the  '  Hum-Drum,'  the  '  Row- 
dy-Dow,' or  the  '  Goosetherumfoodle,'  to  make  any  fauher  spasmodic 
attempts  at  competition.  These  journals  may  excel  the  '  Lollipop'  in  ou' 
cry,  but,  in  all  other  points,  give  us  the  '  Lollipop  !'  liow  this  celebrated 
Magazine  can  sustain  its  evidently  tremendous  expenses,  is  past  compre- 
hension. To  be  sure  it  has  a  circulation  of  precisely  half  a  million,  and  its 
subscription-list  has  increased  seventy-five  per  cent,  within  the  last  couple 
-.1  aa/^  ,  out  then  the  sums  it  disburses,  monthly,  for  contributions,  aro 
scarcely  credible  ;  we  are  cognizant  of  the  fact,  that  Mademoiselle  Criba- 
little  received  no  less  than  eighty-seven  cents  and  a  half  for  her  late  valua- 
ble Revolutionary  Tale,  entitled  '  The  York-Town  Katy-Did,  and  the  Bun- 
ker-Hill Katy-Did'nt.' 

"  The  most  able  papers  in  the  present  number,  are,  of  course,  those  fur- 
nished by  the  editor,  (the  eminent  Mr.  CRAB.)  but  there  are  numerous  mag- 
nificent contributions  from  such  names  as  SNOB,  Mademoiselle  Cribalittle, 
Slyass,  Mrs.  Fibalittle,  Mumble  thumb,  Mrs.  Squibalittle,  and  last,  though 
not  least,  Fatquack.  The  world  may  well  be  challenged  to  produce  so  rich 
a  galaxy  of  genius. 

"  The  poem  over  the  signature  '  SNOB'  is,  we  find,  attracting  universal 
commendation,  and,  we  are  constrained  to  say,  deserves,  if  possible.  CVCM 
D ore  applause  than  it  has  received.  The  '  Oil-of  Bob'  is  the  title  of  this 
masterpiece  of  eloquence  and  art.  One  or  two  of  our  readers  may  have 
very  faint,  although  sufficiently  disgusting  recollection  of  a  poem  (?)  simi- 
larly entitled,  the  perpetration  of  a  miserable  penny-a-liner,  mendicant,  anJ 
cut-throat,  connected  in  the  capacity  of  scullion,  we  believe,  with  one  o. 
he  indecent  prints  about  the  purlieus  of  the  city  ;  we  beg  them,  for  God's 
sake,  not  to  confound  the  compositions.  The  author  of  the  '  Oil-of-Bob'  is, 
we  hear,  THINGUM  BOB,  Esq..  a  gentleman  of  high  genius,  and  a  scholar. 
'  Snob'  is  merely  a  nom-dc-gucrre.  Sept.  15 — 1  t." 

I  could  scarcely  restrain  ray  indignation  while  I  perused  the 
concluding  portions  of  this  diatribe.  It  was  clear  to  me  that  the 
yea-nay  manner — not  to  say  the  gentleness — the  positive  for- 
bearance with  which  the  "  Daddy-Long-Legs"  spoke  of  that 
pig,  the  editor  of  the  "  Gad-Fly" — it  was  evident  to  me.  I  say, 
(hat  this  gentleness  of  speech  could  proceed  from  nothing  eke 
than  a  partiality  for  the  Fly — whom  it  was  clearly  the  intention 
of  the  ':  Daddy-Long-Legs"  to  elevate  into  reputation  at  my 
expense.  Anyone,  indeed,  might  perceive,  with  half  an  eye, 
that,  had  the  real  design  of  the  "  Daddy"  been  what  it  wished 
to  appear,  it,  (the  "  Daddy,")  might  have  expressed  itself  in 
•,01-1113  more  direct,  more  pungent,  and  altogether  more  to  the 
mrpose.  The  words  "  penny-;i-liner,"  "  mendicant,"  "  scullion," 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,   ESQ.          223 

and  "  cut-throat,"  were  epithets  so  intentionally  inexpressive 
and  equivocal,  as  to  be  worse  than  nothing  when  applied  to  the 
author  of  the  very  worst  stanzas  ever  penned  by  one  of  the 
human  race.  We  all  know  what  is  meant  by  "  damning  with 
faint  praise,"  and,  on  the  other  hand,  who  could  fail  seeing 
through  the  covert  purpose  of  the  "  Daddy" — that  of  glorifying 
with  feeble  abuse  ? 

What  the  "  Daddy  "  chose  to  say  of  the  Fly,  however,  was 
no  business  of  mine.  What  it  said  of  myself  was.  After  the 
noble  manner  in  which  the  "  Owl,"  the  "  Toad,"  the  "  Mole," 
had  expressed  themselves  in  respect  to  my  ability,  it  was  rather 
too  much  to  be  coolly  spoken  of  by  a  thing  like  the  "  Daddy- 
Long-Legs,"  as  merely  "a  gentleman  of  high  genius  and  a 
scholar."  Gentleman  indeed !  I  made  up  my  mind  at  once 
either  to  get  a  written  apology  from  the  "  Daddy-Long-Legs,'' 
or  to  call  it  out. 

Full  of  this  purpose,  I  looked  about  me  to  find  a  friend  whom 
I  could  entrust  with  a  message  to  his  Daddyship,  and  as  the  edi- 
tor of  the  "  Lollipop"  had  given  me  marked  tokens  of  regard,  I 
at  length  concluded  to  seek  assistance  upon  the  present  occasion. 

I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  account,  in  a  manner  satisfac- 
tory to  my  own  understanding,  for  the  very  peculiar  countenance 
and  demeanor  with  which  Mr.  Crab  listened  to  me,  as  I  unfolded 
to  him  my  design.  He  again  went  through  the  scene  of  the 
bell-rope  and  cudgel,  and  did  not  omit  the  duck.  At  one  period 
I  thought  he  really  intended  to  quack.  His  fit,  nevertheless, 
finally  subsided  as  before,  and  he  began  to  act  and  speak  in  a 
rational  way.  He  declined  bearing  the  cartel,  however,  and  in 
fact,  dissuaded  me  from  sending  it  at  all ;  but  was  candid  enough 
to  admit  that  the  "  Daddy-Long-Legs"  had  been  disgracefully 
in  the  wrong — more  especially  in  what  related  to  the  epithets 
"  gentleman  and  scholar." 

Towards  the  end  of  this  interview  with  Mr.  Crab,  who  really 
appeared  to  take  a  paternal  interest  in  my  welfare,  he  suggested 
to  me  that  I  might  turn  an  honest  penny,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
advance  my  reputation,  by  occasionally  playing  Thomas  Hawk 
for  the  "  Lollipop." 


224          THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ. 

I  begged  Mr.  Crab  to  inform  me  who  was  Mr.  Thomas  Ha\\k 
and  how  it  was  expected  that  I  should  play  him. 

Here  Mr.  Crab  again  "  made  great  eyes,"  (as  we  say  in  Ger. 
many,)  but  at  length,  recovering  himself  from  a  profound  attack 
of  astonishment,  he  assured  me  that  he  employed  the  words 
"  Thomas  Hawk"  to  avoid  the  colloquialism,  Tommy,  which 
was  low — but  that  the  true  idea  was  Tommy  Hawk — or  toma- 
hawk— and  that  by  "  playing  tomahawk"  he  referred  to  scalp- 
ing, brow-beating  and  otherwise  using-up  the  herd  of  poor-devil 
authors. 

I  assured  my  patron  that,  if  this  was  all,  I  was  perfectly  re- 
signed to  the  task  of  playing  Thomas  Hawk.  Hereupon  Mr. 
Crab  desired  me  to  use-up  the  editor  of  the  "  Gad-Fly"  forth- 
with, in  the  fiercest  style  within  the  scope  of  my  ability,  and  as 
a  specimen  of  my  powers.  This  I  did.  upon  the  spot,  in  a  re- 
view of  the  original  "  Oil-of-Bob,"  occupying  thirty-six  pages 
of  the  "  Lollipop."  I  found  playing  Thomas  Hawk,  indeed,  a 
far  less  onerous  occupation  than  poetizing ;  for  I  went  upon 
system  altogether,  and  thus  it  was  easy  to  do  the  thing  thoroughly 
and  well.  My  practice  was  this.  I  bought  auction  copies  (cheap) 
of  "  Lord  Brougham's  Speeches,"  "  Cobbett's  Complete  Works," 
the  "New  Slang-Syllabus,"  the  "Whole  Art  of  Snubbing," 
"  Prentice's  Billingsgate,"  (folio  edition,)  and  "  Lewis  G.  Clarke 
on  Tongue."  These  works  I  cut  up  thoroughly  with  a  curry- 
comb, and  then,  throwing  the  shreds  into  a  sieve,  sifted  out 
carefully  all  that  might  be  thought  decent,  (a  mere  trifle)  ;  re- 
serving the  hard  phrases,  which  I  threw  into  a  large  tin  pepper- 
castor  with  longitudinal  holes,  so  that  an  entire  sentence  could 
get  through  without  material  injury.  The  mixture  was  then 
ready  for  use.  When  called  upon  to  play  Thomas  Hawk,  I 
anointed  a  sheet  of  fools-cap  with  the  white  of  a  gander's  egg ; 
then,  shredding  the  thing  to  be  reviewed  as  I  had  previously 
shredded  the  books, — only  with  more  care,  so  as  to  get  every 
word  separate — I  threw  the  latter  shreds  in  with  the  former, 
screwed  on  the  lid  of  the  castor,  gave  it  a  shake,  and  so  dusted 
out  the  mixture  upon  the  egg'd  foolscap ;  where  it  stuck.  The 
effect  was  beautiful  to  behold.  It  was  captivating.  Indeed,  the 
reviews  I  brought  to  pass  bv  this  simple  expedient  have  nevel 


THE  LITERARy  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ.          225 

been  approached,  and  were  the  wonder  of  the  world.  At  first, 
through  bashfulness — the  result  of  inexperience — I  was  a  little 
put  out  by  a  certain  inconsistency — a  certain  air  of  the  bizarre, 
(as  we  say  in  France,)  worn  by  the  composition  as  a  whole.  All 
the  phrases  did  not  Jit,  (as  we  eay  in  the  Anglo-Saxon.)  Many 
were  quite  awry.  Some,  even,  were  up-side-down ;  and  there 
were  none  of  them  which  were  not,  in  some  measure,  injured  in 
regard  to  effect,  by  this  latter  species  of  accident,  when  it  oc- 
curred ; — with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Lewis  Clarke's  paragraphs, 
which  were  so  vigorous,  and  altogether  stout,  that  they  seemed 
not  particularly  disconcerted  by  any  extreme  of  position,  but 
looked  equally  happy  and  satisfactory,  whether  on  their  heads, 
or  on  their  heels. 

What  became  of  the  editor  of  the  "  Gad-Fly,"  after  the  pub 
lication  of  my  criticism  on  his  "  Oil-of-Bob,"  it  is  somewhat 
difficult  to  determine.  The  most  reasonable  conclusion  is,  that 
he  wept  himself  to  death.  At  all  events  he  disappeared  instan- 
taneously from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  no  man  has  seen  even 
the  ghost  of  him  since. 

This  matter  having  been  properly  accomplished,  and  the  Fu- 
ries appeased,  I  grew  at  once  into  high  favor  with  Mr.  Crab. 
He  took  me  into  his  confidence,  gave  me  a  permanent  situation 
as  Thomas  Hawk  of  the  "  Lollipop,"  and,  as  for  the  present,  he 
could  afford  me  no  salary,  allowed  me  to  profit,  at  discretion,  by 
his  advice. 

"  My  dear  Thingum,"  said  he  to  me  one  day  after  dinner,  "  I 
respect  your  abilities  and  love  you  as  a  son.  You  shall  be  my 
heir.  When  I  die  I  will  bequeath  you  the  '  Lollipop."  In  the 
meantime  I  will  make  a  man  of  you — I  will — provided  always 
that  you  follow  my  counsel.  The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  get  rid 
of  the  old  bore." 

"  Boar  ?"  said  I  inquiringly — "  pig,  eh  ? — aper  f  (as  we  say  in 
Latin) — who  ? — where  ?" 

"  Your  father,"  said  he. 

"  Precisely,"  I  replied, — "  pig-" 

"  You  have  your  fortune  to  make,  Thingum,"  resumed  Mr. 
Crab,  "  and  that  governor  of  yours  is  a  millstone  about  your 
neck.  We  must  cut  him  at  once."  [Here  1  took  out  my  knife.] 


226         THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THIXGUM  BOB,  ESQ. 

"  We  must  cut  him,"  continued  Mr.  Crab,  "  decidedly  and  for 
ever.  He  won't  do — he  icorit.  Upon  second  thoughts,  you 
had  better  kick  him,  or  cane  him,  or  something  of  that  kind." 

"  What  do  you  say,"  I  suggested  modestly,  "  to  my  kicking 
him  in  the  first  instance,  caning  him  afterwards,  and  winding  up 
by  tweaking  his  nose?" 

Mr.  Crab  looked  at  me  musingly  for  some  moments,  and  then 
answered : 

.  "  1  think,  Mr.  Bob,  that  what  you  propose  would  answer  suffi- 
ciently well — indeed  remarkably  well — that  is  to  say,  as  far  as 
it  went — but  barbers  are  exceedingly  hard  to  cut,  and  I  think, 
upon  the  whole,  that,  having  performed  upon  Thomas  Bob 
the  operations  you  suggest,  it  would  be  advisable  to  blacken, 
with  your  fists,  both  his  eyes,  very  carefully  and  thoroughly,  to 
prevent  his  ever  seeing  you  again  in  fashionable  promenades. 
After  doing  this,  I  really  do  not  perceive  that  you  can  do  any 
more.  However — it  might  be  just  as  well  to  roll  him  once  or 
twice  in  the  gutter,  and  then  put  him  in  charge  of  the  police. 
Any  time  the  next  moi'ning  you  can  call  at  the  watch-house  and 
swear  an  assault." 

I  was  much  affected  by  the  kindness  of  feeling  towards  me 
personally,  which  was  evinced  in  this  excellent  advice  of  Mr. 
Crab,  and  I  did  not  fail  to  profit  by  it  forthwith.  The  result 
was,  that  I  got  rid  of  the  old  bore,  and  began  to  feel  a  little  in- 
dependent and  gentleman-like.  The  want  of  money,  however, 
was,  for  a  few  weeks,  a  source  of  some  discomfort ;  but  at  length, 
by  carefully  putting  to  use  my  two  eyes,  and  observing  how 
matters  went  just  in  front  of  my  nose,  I  perceived  how  the 
thing  was  to  be  brought  about.  I  say  "  thing" — be  it  observed — 
for  they  tell  me  the  Latin  for  it  is  rem.  By  the  way,  talking  of 
Latin,  can  any  one  tell  me  the  meaning  of  quocunque — or  what 
is  the  meaning  of  modo  ? 

My  plan  was  exceedingly  simple.  I  bought,  for  a  song,  a 
sixteenth  of  the  "  Snapping-Turtle  :" — that  was  all.  The  thing 
was  done,  and  I  put  money  in  my  purse.  There  were  some  tri- 
vial arrangements  afterwards,  to  be  sure ;  but  these  formed  no, 
portion  of  the  plan.  They  were  a  consequence— a  result.  For 
example,  I  bought  pen,  ink  and  paper,  and  put  them  into  furious 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGLM  BOB,  ESQ.          227 

activity.  Having  thus  completed  a  Magazine  article,  I  gave  it, 
for  appellation,  "  FoL-LoL,  by  the  Author  of  '  THE  OIL-OF- 
BOB,'  "  and  enveloped  it  to  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle."  That 
journal,  however,  having  pronounced  it  "  twattle"  in  the 
"  Monthly  Notices  to  Correspondents,"  I  reheaded  the  paper 
" '  Hey-Diddle-Diddle,'  by  THINGUM  BOB,  Esq.,  Author  of  the 
Ode  on  '  The  Oil-of-Bob,'  and  Editor  of  the  "  Snapping-Turtle." 
With  this  amendment,  I  re-enclosed  it  to  the  "  Goosetherum- 
foodle," and,  while  I  awaited  a  reply,  published  daily,  in  the 
"  Turtle,"  six  columns  of  what  may  be  termed  philosophical  and 
analytical  investigation  of  the  literary  merits  of  the  "  Goose- 
therumfoodle," as  well  as  of  the  personal  character  of  the  editor 
of  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle."  A-t  the  end  of  a  week  the, 
"  Goosetherumfoodle."  discovered  that  it  had,  by  some  odd  mis- 
take, "  confounded  a  stupid  article,  headed  '  Hey-Diddle-Diddle' 
and  composed  by  some  unknown  ignoramus,  with  a  gem  of  re- 
splendent lustre  similarly  entitled,  the  work  of  Thingum  Bob. 
Esq.,  the  celebrated  author  of '  The  Oil-of-Bob'  "  The  "  Goose 
therumfoodle"  deeply  "  regretted  this  very  natural  accident," 
and  promised,  moreover,  an  insertion  of  the  genuine  "  Hey-Did- 
dle-Diddle" in  the  very  next  number  of  the  Magazine. 

The  fact  is,  I  thought — I  really  thought — I  thought  at  the 
time — I  thought  then — and  have  no  reason  for  thinking  other- 
wise now — that  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle"  did  make  a  mistake. 
With  the  best  intentions  in  the  world,  I  never  knew  any  thing 
that  made  as  many  singular  mistakes  as  the  "  Goosetherumfoo- 
dle." From  that  day  I  took  a  liking  to  the  "  Goosetherumfoo- 
dle," and  the  result  was  I  soon  saw  into  the  ve"ry  depths  of  its 
literary  merits,  and  did  not  fail  to  expatiate  upon  them,  in  the 
'*  Turtle,"  whenever  a  fitting  opportunity  occurred.  And  it  is 
to  be  regarded  as  a  very  peculiar  coincidence — as  one  of  those 
positively  remarkable  coincidences  which  set  a  man  to  serious 
thinking — that  just  such  a  total  revolution  of  opinion — just  such 
entire  bouleversement,  (as  we  say  in  French,) — just  such  thor- 
ough topsiturviness,  (if  I  may  be  permitted  to  employ  a  rather 
forcible  term  of  the  Choctaws,)  as  happened,  pro  and  con,  be- 
tween myself  on  the  one  part,  and  the  "  Goosetherumfoodle"  on 
the  other,  did  actually  again  happen,  in  a  brief  period  after- 


228          THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM"  BOB,  ESQ. 

wards,  and  with  precisely  similar  circumstances,  in  the  case  of 
myself  and  the  "  Rowdy-Dow,"  and  in  the  case  of  myself  and 
the  "Hum-Drum." 

Thus  it  was  that,  by  a  master-stroke  of  genius,  I  at  length 
consummated  my  triumphs  by  "  putting  money  in  my  purse," 
and  thus  may  be  said  really  and  fairly  to  have  commenced  that 
brilliant  and  eventful  career  which  rendered  me  illustrious,  and 
which  now  enables  me  to  say,  with  Chateaubriand,  "  I  have  made, 
history" — "  fai  fait  Vhistoire" 

I  have  indeed  "  made  history."  From  the  bright  epoch  which 
I  now  record,  my  actions — my  works — are  the  property  of  man- 
kind. They  are  familiar  to  the  world.  It  is,  then,  needless  for 
me  to  detail  how,  soaring  rapidly,  I  fell  heir  to  the  "  Lollipop" — 
how  I  merged  this  journal  in  the  "  Hum-Drum'' — how  again  1 
made  purchase  of  the  "  Rowdy-Dow,"  thus  combining  the  three 
periodicals — how,  lastly,  I  effected  a  bargain  for  the  sole  re- 
maining rival,  and  united  all  the  literature  of  the  country  in  one 
magnificent  Magazine,  known  everywhere  as  the 

"  Rowdy-Dow,  Lollipop,  Hum- Drum, 
and 

GO  O  SETHERUMFO  ODL  E." 

Yes ;  I  have  made  history.  My  fame  is  universal.  It  extends 
to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth.  You  cannot  take  up  a  com- 
mon newspaper  in  which  you  shall  not  see  some  allusion  to  the 
immortal  TIIINGUM  BOB.  It  is  Mr.  Thingum  Bob  said  so,  and 
Mr.  Thingum  Bob  wrote  this,  and  Mr.  Thingura  Bob  did  that. 
But  I  am  meek  and  expire  with  an  humble  heart.  After  all, 
what  is  it  ? — this  indescribable  something  which  men  will  persist 
in  terming  "  genius  ?"  I  agree  with  Buffon — with  Hogarth — it 
is  but  diligeiwe  after  all. 

Look  at  me  ! — how  I  labored — how  I  toiled — how  I  wrote  ! 
Ye  Gods,  did  I  not  write  ?  I  knew  not  the  word  "  ease."  By 
day  I  adhered  to  my  desk,  and  at  night,  a  pale  student,  I  con- 
sumed the  midnight  oil.  You  should  have  seen  me — you  should. 
I  leaned  to  the  right.  I  leaned  to  the  left.  I  sat  forward.  I 
sat  backward  1  sat  upon  end.  I  sat  tete  baissee,  (as  they  havo 


THE  LITERARY  LIFE  OF  THINGUM  BOB,  ESQ.          229 

it  in  the  Kickapoo,)  bowing  my  head  close  to  the  alabaster  page. 
A-nd,  through  all,  I — wrote.  Through  joy  and  through  sorrow, 
I — wrote.  Through  hunger  and  through  thirst,  I — wrote. 
Through  good  report  and  through  ill  report,  I — wrote.  Through 
eunshine  and  through  moonshine,  I — wrote.  What  I  wrote  it  is 
unnecessary  to  say.  The  style  ! — that  was  the  thing  I  caught 
it  from  Fatquack — whizz ! — fizz  ! — and  I  am.  giving  you  a  soeci 
men  of  it  now. 


HOff  TO  fflUTE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE, 


1  In  the  name  of  the  Prophet — figs  !  !" 

Cry  of  Turkish  fig  pedlcr. 


1  PRESUME  every  body  has  heard  of  me.  My  name  is  the 
Signora  Psyche  Zenobia.  This  I  know  to  be  a  fact.  No  body 
but  my  enemies  ever  calls  me  Suky  Snobbs.  I  have  been  as- 
sured that  Suky  is  bilt  a  vulgar  corruption  of  Psyche,  which  is 
good  Greek,  and  means  "  the  soul"  (that's  me,  I'm  all  soul)  and 
sometimes  "  a  butterfly,"  which  latter  meaning  undoubtedly  al- 
ludes to  my  appearance  in  my  new  crimson  satin  dress,  with  the 
sky-blue  Arabian  mantelet,  and  the  trimmings  of  green  agraffcts, 
and  the  seven  flounces  of  orange-colored  auriculas.  As  for 
Snobbs — any  person  who  should  look  at  me  would  be  instantly 
aware  that  my  name  wasn't  Snobbs.  Miss  Tabitha  Turnip  pro- 
pagated that  report  through  sheer  envy.  Tabitha  Turnip  indeed  ! 
Oh  the  little  wretch  !  But  what  can  we  expect  from  a  turnip  ? 
Wonder  if  she  remembers  the  old  adage  about  "  blood  out  of  a 
turnip,  &c."  [Mem:  put  her  in  mind  of  it  the  first  opportunity.] 
[Mem  again — pull  her  nose.]  Where  was  I  ?  Ah  !  I  have 
been  assured  that  Snobbs  is  a  mere  corruption  of  Zenobia,  and 
that  Zenobia  was  a  queen — (So  am  I.  Dr.  Moneypenny,  always 
calls  me  the  Queen  of  Hearts  ) — and  that  Zenobia,  as  well  as 
Psyche,  is  good  Greek,  and  that  my  father  was  "  a  Greek,"  and 
that  consequently  I  have  a  right  to  our  patronymic,  which  is  Ze- 
nobia, and  not  by  any  means  Snobbs.  Nobody  but  Tabitha 
Turnip  calls  me  Suky  Snobbs.  I  am  the  Signora  Psyche 
Zenobia. 

As  I  said  before,  everybody  has  heard  of  me.  I  am  that  very 
Signora  Psyche  Zenobia,  so  justly  celebrated  as  corresponding 


HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACK  WOOD  ARTICLE.  231 

secretary  to  the  "  Philadelphia,  Regular,  Exchange,  Tea,  Total, 
Young,  Belles,  Lettres,  Universal,  Experimental,  Bibliographical 
Association,  To,  Civilize,  Humanity"  Dr.  Moneypenny  made 
the  title  for  us,  and  says  he  chose  it  because  it  sounded  big  like 
an  empty  rum-puncheon.  (A  vulgar  man  that  sometimes — but 
he's  deep.)  We  all  sign  the  initials  of  the  society  after  our 
,,ames,  in  the  fashion  of  the  R.  S.  A.,  Royal  Society  of  Arts — • 
the  S.  D.  U.  K.,  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge, 
'&c.  &c.  Dr.  Moneypenny  says  that  S  stands  for  stale,  and  that 
D.  U.  K.  spells  duck,  (but  it  don't,)  and  that  S.  D.  U.  K.  stands 
for  Stale  Duck,  and  not  for  Lord  Brougham's  society — but  then 
Dr.  Moneypenny  is  such  a  queer  man  that  lam  never  sure  when 
he  is  telling  me  the  truth.  At  any  rate  we  always  add  to  our 
names  the  initials  P.  R.  E.  T.  T.  Y.  B.  L.  U.  E.  B.  A.  T.  C.  H.— 
that  is  to  say,  Philadelphia,  Regular,  Exchange,  Tea,  Total, 
Young,  Belles,  Lettres,  Universal,  Experimental,  Bibliographical, 
Association,  To,  Civilize,  Humanity — one  letter  for  each  word, 
which  is  a  decided  improvement  upon  Lord  Brougham.  Dr. 
Moneypenny  will  have  it  that  our  initials  give  our  true  charac- 
ter— but  for  my  life  I  can't  see  what  he  means. 

Notwithstanding  the  good  offices  of  the  Doctor,  and  the  stren- 
uous exertions  of  the  association  to  get  itself  into  notice,  it  met 
with  no  very  great  success  until  I  joined  it.  .The  truth  is,  mem- 
bers indulged  in  too  flippant  a  tone  of  discussion.  The  papers 
read  every  Saturday  evening  were  characterized  less  by  depth 
than  buffoonery.  They  were  all  whipped  syllabub.  There  was 
no  investigation  of  first  causes,  first  principles.  There  was  no 
investigation  of  anything  at  all.  There  was  no  attention  paid  to 
that  great  point,  the  "  fitness  of  things."  In  short  there  was  no 
fine  writing  like  this.  It  was  all  low — very !  No  profundity, 
no  reading,  no  metaphysics — nothing  which  the  learned  call  spir- 
ituality, and  which  the  unlearned  choose  to  stigmatize  as  cant. 
[Dr.  M.  says  I  ought  to  spell  "  cant"  with  a  capital  K — but  I 
know  better.] 

When  I  joined  the  society  it  was  my  endeavor  to  introduce  a 
better  style  of  thinking  and  writing,  and  all  the  world  knows  how 
well  I  have  succeeded.  ~We  get  up  as  good  papers  now  in  the 
P.  R.  E.  T.  T  .Y.  B.  I-.  U.  E  B.  A.  T.  C.  H.  as  any  to  be  found 


232  HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE. 

even  in  Blackwood.  I  say,  Blackwood,  because  I  have  been 
assured  that  the  finest  writing,  upon  every  subject,  is  to  be  dis- 
covered in  the  pages  of  that  justly  celebrated  Magazine.  We 
now  take  it  for  our  model  upon  all  themes,  and  are  getting  into 
rapid  notice  accordingly.  And,  after  all,  it's  not  so  very  difficult 
a  matter  to  compose  an  article  of  the  genuine  Blackwood  stamp, 
if  one  only  goes  properly  about  it.  Of  course  I  don't  speak  of 
the  political  articles.  Everybody  knows  how  they  are  managed, 
since  Dr.  Moneypenny  explained  it.  Mr.  Blackwood  has  a  pair 
of  tailor's-shears,  and  three  apprentices  who  stand  by  him  for  or- 
ders. One  hands  him  the  "  Times,"  another  the  "  Examiner." 
and  a  third  a  "  Gulley's  New  Compendium  of  Slang- Whang." 
Mr.  B.  merely  cuts  out  and  intersperses.  It  is  soon  done — 
nothing  but  Examiner,  Slang- Whang,  and  Times — then  Times, 
Slang  Whang,  and  Examiner — and  then  Times,  Examiner  and 
Slang- Whang. 

But  the  chief  merit  of  the  Magazine  lies  in  its  miscellaneous 
articles ;  and  the  best  of  these  come  under  the  head  of  what  Dr. 
Moneypenny  calls  the  bizarreries  (whate-ver  that  may  mean)  and 
what  everybody  else  calls  the  intensities.  This  is  a  species  of 
writing  which  I  have  long  known  how  to  appreciate,  although  it 
is  only  since  my  late  visit  to  Mr.  Blackwood  (deputed  by  the 
society)  that  I  have  been  made  aware  of  the  exact  method  of 
composition.  This  method  is  very  simple,  but  not  so  much  so  as 
the  politics.  Upon  my  calling  at  Mr.  B.'s,  and  making  known 
to  him  the  wishes  of  the  society,  he  received  me  with  great  civil- 
ity, took  me  into  his  study,  and  gave  me  a  clear  explanation  of 
tLe  whole  process. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  he,  evidently  struck  with  my  majes 
tic  appearance,  for  I  had  on  the  crimson  satin,  with  the  green 
agraffas,  and  orange-colored  auriculas,  "  My  dear  madam,"  said 
he,  "  sit  down.  The  matter  stands  thus.  In  the  first  place 
your  writer  of  intensities  must  have  very  black  ink,  and  a  very 
big  pen,  with  a  very  blunt  nib.  And,  mark  me,  Miss  Psyche 
Zenobia !"  he  continued,  after  a  pause,  with  the  most  impressive 
energy  and  solemnity  of  manner,  "  mark  me ! — that  pen — must— 
never  be  mended!  Here'n,  madam,  lies  the  secret,  the  soul,  of 
intensity.  I  assume  upon  myself  to  say,  that  no  individual- 


HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE.  233 

of  however  great  genius,  ever  wrote  with  a  good  pen, — under 
stand  me, — a  good  article.  You  may  take  it  for  granted,  that 
when  manuscript  can  be  read  it  is  never  worth  reading.  This  is 
a  leading  principle  in  our  faith,  to  which  if  you  cannot  readily 
assent,  our  conference  is  at  an  end." 

He  paused.  But,  of  course,  as  I  had  no  wish  to  put  an  end  to 
the  conference,  I  assented  to  a  proposition  so  very  obvious,  and 
one,  too,  of  whose  truth  I  had  all  along  been  sufficiently  aware. 
He  seemed  pleased,  and  went  on  with  his  instructions. 

"  It  may  appear  invidious  in  me,  Miss  Psyche  Zenobia,  to  refer 
you  to  an  article,  or  set  of  articles,  in  the  way  of  model  or  study  ; 
yet  perhaps  I  may  as  well  call  your  attention  to  a  few  cases. 
Let  me  see.  There  was  '  The  Dead  Alive,'  a  capital  thing  ! — 
the  record  of  a  gentleman's  sensations  when  entombed  before  the 
breath  was  out  of  his  body — full  of  taste,  terror,  sentiment,  meta- 
physics, and  erudition.  You  would  have  sworn  that  the  writer 
had  been  born  and  brought  up  in  a  coffin.  Then  we  had  the 
'  Confessions  of  an  Opium-eater' — fine,  very  fine  ! — glorious  ima- 
gination— deep  philosophy — acute  speculation — plenty  of  fire  and 
fury,  and  a  good  spicing  of  the  decidedly  unintelligible.  That 
was  a  nice  bit  of  flummery,  and  went  down  the  throats  of  the 
people  delightfully.  They  would  have  it  that  Coleridge  wrote 
the  paper — but  not  so.  It  was  composed  by  my  pet  baboon, 
Juniper,  over  a  rummer  of  Hollands  and  water,  '  hot,  without 
sugar.'  "  [This  I  could  scarcely  have  believed  had  it  been  any 
body  but  Mr.  Blackwood,  who  assured  me  of  it.]  "  Then  thenf 
was  '  TJie  Involuntary  Experimentalist?  all  about  a  gentleman 
who  got  baked  in  an  oven,  and  came  out  alive  and  well,  although 
certainly  done  to  a  turn.  And  then  there  was  '  The  Diary  of  a 
Late  Physician'  where  the  merit  lay  in  good  rant,  and  indiffer- 
ent Greek — both  of  them  taking  things  with  the  public.  And 
then  there  was  '  The  Man  in  the  Bell,'  a  paper  by-the-by,  Miss 
Zenobia,  which  I  cannot  sufficiently  recommend  to  your  attention. 
It  is  the  history  of  a  young  person  who  goes  to  sleep  under  the 
clapper  of  a  church  bell,  and  is  awakened  by  its  tolling  for  a 
funeral.  The  sound  drives  him  mad,  and,  accordingly,  pulling 
out  his  tablets,  he  gives  a  record  of  his  sensations.  Sensations 
are  the  great  things  after  all.  Should  you  ever  be  drowneJ  of 


234  HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE. 

hung,  be  sure  and  make  a  note  of  your  sensations — they  will  IKJ 
worth  to  you  ten  guineas  a  sheet.  If  you  wish  to  write  forcibly, 
Miss  Zenobia,  pay  minute  attention  to  the  sensations." 

"  That  I  certainly  will,  Mr.  Blackwood,'    said  I. 

"  Good  !"  he  replied.  "  I  see  you  are  a  pupil  after  my  own 
heart.  But  I  must  put  you  au  fait  to  the  details  necessary  in 
composing  what  may  be  denominated  a  genuine  Blackwood  arti- 
cle of  the  sensation  stamp — the  kind  which  you  will  understand 
me  to  say  I  consider  the  best  for  all  purposes. 

"  The  first  thing  requisite  is  to  get  yourself  into  such  a  scrape 
as  no  one  ever  got  into  before.  The  oven,  for  instance, — that 
was  a  good  hit.  But  if  you  have  no  oven,  or  big  bell,  at  hand, 
and  if  you  cannot  conveniently  tumble  out  of  a  balloon,  or  be 
swallowed  up  in  an  earthquake,  or  get  stuck  fast  in  a  chimney, 
you  will  have  to  be  contented  with  simply  imagining  some  simi- 
lar misadventure.  I  should  prefer,  however,  that  you  have  the 
actual  fact  to  bear  you  out.  Nothing  so  well  assists  the  fancy, 
as  an  experimental  knowledge  of  the  matter  in  hand.  '  Truth  is 
strange,'  you  know,  *  stranger  than  fiction' — besides  being  more 
to  the  purpose." 

Here  I  assured  him  I  had  an  excellent  pair  of  garters,  and 
would  go  and  hang  myself  forthwith. 

"  Good!"  he  replied,  "do  so  ; — although  hanging  is  somewhat 
hackneyed.  Perhaps  you  might  do  better.  Take  a  dose  of  Bran- 
dreth's  pills,  and  then  give  us  your  sensations.  However,  my 
instructions  will  apply  equally  well  to  any  variety  of  misadven- 
ture, and  in  your  way  home  you  may  easily  get  knocked  in  the 
head,  or  run  over  by  an  omnibus,  or  bitten  by  a  mad  dog,  or 
drowned  in  a  gutter.  But  to  proceed. 

"  Having  determined  upon  your  subject,  you  must  next  con- 
sider the  tone,  or  manner,  of  your  narration.  There  is  the  tone 
didactic,  the  tone  enthusiastic,  the  tone  natural — all  common- 
place enough.  But  then  therr  is  the  tone  laconic,  or  curt,  which 
Las  lately  come  much  into  use.  It  consists  in  short  sentences, 
Somehow  thus :  Can't  be  too  brief.  Can't  be  too  snappish. 
Always  a  full  stop.  And  never  a  paragraph. 

"Then  there  is  the  tone  elevated,  diffusive,  and  interjectiona!. 
Some  of  our  best  novelists  patronize  this  tone.  The  wonls  must 


HOW   TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE.  2M 

he  all  in  a  whirl,  like  a  humming-top,  and  make  a  noise  verj 
similar,  which  answers  remarkably  well  instead  of  meaning. 
This  is  the  best  of  all  possible  styles  where  the  writer  is  in  too 
great  a  hurry  to  think. 

"  The  tone  metaphysical  is  also  a  good  one.  If  you  know  any 
big  words  this  is  your  chance  for  them.  Talk  of  the  Ionic  and 
Eleatic  schools — of  Archytas,  Gorgias  and  Alcmaeon.  Say 
something  about  objectivity  and  subjectivity.  Be  sure  and  abuse 
a  man  named  Locke.  Turn  up  your  nose  at  things  in  general 
and  when  you  let  slip  anything  a  little  too  absurd,  you  need  not 
be  at  the  trouble  of  scratching  it  out,  but  just  add  a  foot-note, 
and  say  that  you  are  indebted  for  the  above  profound  observation 
to  the  '  Kritik  der  reinem  Vernunft,'  or  to  the  '  Metaphysische 
Anfangsyrunde  der  Nuturwissenschaft.'  This  will  look  erudite 
and — and — and  frank. 

"There  are  various  other  tones  of  equal  celebrity,  but  I  shall  men- 
tion only  two  more — the  tone  transcendental  and  the  tone  heteroge- 
neous. In  the  former  the  merit  consists  in  seeing  into  the  nature 
of  affairs  a  very  great  deal  farther  than  any  body  else.  This 
second  sight  is  very  efficient  when  properly  managed.  A  little 
reading  of  the  '  Dial'  will  carry  you  a  great  way.  Eschew,  in 
this  case,  big  words ;  get  them  as  small  as  possible,  and  write 
them  upside  down.  Look  over  Channing's  poems  and  quote 
what  he  says  about  a  'fat  little  man  with  a  delusive  show  of  Can.' 
Put  in  something  about  the  Supernal  Oneness.  Don't  say  a 
syllable  about  the  Infernal  Twoness.  Above  all,  study  inuendo. 
Hint  everything — assert  nothing.  If  you  feel  inclined  to  say 
'  bread  and  butter,'  do  not  by  any  means  say  it  outright.  You  may 
say  anything  and  everything  approaching  to  '  bread  and  butter.' 
You  may  hint  at  buck-wheat  cake,  or  you  may  even  go  so  far  as 
to  insinuate  oat-meal  porridge,  but  if  bread  and  butter  be  your 
real  meaning,  be  cautious,  my  dear  Miss  Psyche,  not  on  any  ac- 
count to  say  'bread  and  butter  !'" 

I  assured  him  that  I  should  never  say  it  again  as  long  as  J 
lived.  He  kissed  me  and  continued : 

"As  for  the  tone  heterogeneous,  it  is  merely  a  judicious  mix- 
ture, in  equal  proportions,  of  all  the  other  tones  in  the  world 


236  HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE. 

and  is  consequently  made  up  of  everything  deep,  great,  odd 
piquant,  pertinent,  and  pretty. 

"  Let  us  suppose  now  you  have  determined  upon  your  inci- 
dents and  tone.  The  most  important  portion — in  fact,  the  soul 
of  the  whole  business,  is  yet  to  be  attended  to — I  allude  to  the 
filling  up.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  lady,  or  gentleman 
<:ither,  has  been  leading  the  life  of  a  book-worm.  And  yet 
above  all  things  it  is  necessary  that  your  article  have  an  air  of 
erudition,  or  at  least  afford  evidence  of  extensive  general  read- 
ing. Now  I'll  put  you  in  the  way  of  accomplishing  this  point. 
See  here !"  (pulling  down  some  three  or  four  ordinary-looking 
volumes,  and  opening  them  at  random).  "  By  casting  your  eye 
down  almost  any  page  of  any  book  in  the  world,  you  will  be 
able  to  perceive  at  once  a  host  of  little  scraps  of  either  learning 
or  bel-esprit-ism,  which  are  the  very  thing  for  the  spicing  of  a 
Blackwood  article.  You  might  as  well  note  down  a  few  while 
I  read  them  to  you.  I  shall  make  two  divisions :  first,  Piquant 
Facts  for  the  Manufacture  of  Similes;  and  second,  Piquant  Ex- 
pressions to  be  introduced  as  occasion  may  require.  Write 
now ! — "  and  I  wrote  as  he  dictated. 

"  PIQUANT  FACTS  FOR  SIMILES.  '  There  were  originally 
bu.  three  Muses — Melete,  Mneme,  Aoede — meditation,  memory, 
and  singing.'  You  may  make  a  great  deal  of  that  little  fact  if 
properly  worked.  You  see  it  is  not  generally  known,  and  looks 
recherche.  You  must  be  careful  and  give  the  thing  with  a  down- 
right improviso  air. 

"  Again.  '  The  river  Alpheus  passed  beneath  the  sea,  and 
emerged  without  injury  to  the  purity  of  its  waters.'  Rather 
stale  that,  to  be  sure,  but,  if  properly  dressed  and  dished  up, 
will  look  quite  as  fresh  as  ever. 

"Here  is  something  better.  'The  Persian  Iris  appears  to 
some  persons  to  possess  a  sweet  and  very  powerful  perfume, 
while  to  others  it  is  perfectly  scentless.'  Fine  that,  and  very 
delicate !  Turn  it  about  a  little,  and  it  will  do  wonders.  We'll 
have  something  else  in  the  botanical  line.  There's  nothing 
goes  down  so  well,  especially  with  the  help  of  a  little  Latin, 
Write ! 


HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  AJITICLE.  237 

" '  The  Epidendrum  Flos  Acris,  of  Java,  bears  a  very  beau- 
tiful flower,  and  will  live  when  pulled  up  by  the  roots.  Tho 
natives  suspend  it  by  a  cord  from  the  ceiling,  and  enjoy  its  fra- 
grance for  years.'  That's  capital !  That  will  do  for  the  similes. 
Now  for  the  Piquant  Expressions. 

PIQUANT  EXPRESSIONS.  '  The  venerable  Chinese  novel  Ju* 
Riao-Li!  Good  !  By  introducing  these  few  words  with  dex- 
terity you  will  evince  your  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
language  and  literature  of  the  Chinese.  With  the  aid  of  this 
you  may  possibly  get  along  without  either  Arabic,  or  Sanscrit, 
or  Chickasaw.  There  is  no  passing  muster,  however,  without 
Spanish,  Italian,  German,  Latin,  and  Greek.  I  must  look  you 
out  a  little  specimen  of  each.  Any  scrap  will  answer,  because 
you  must  depend  upon  your  own  ingenuity  to  make  it  fit  into 
your  article.  Now  write  ! 

" '  Aussi  tendre  que  Zaire' — as  tender  as  Zaire — French. 
Alludes  to  the  frequent  repetition  of  the  phrase,  la  tendre  Zaire, 
in  the  French  tragedy  of  that  name.  Properly  introduced,  will 
show  not  only  your  knowledge  of  the  language,  but  you  general 
reading  and  wit.  You  can  say,  for  instance,  that  the  chicken 
you  were  eating  (write  an  article  about  bung  choked  to  death 
by  a  chicken-bone)  was  not  altogether  aussi  tendre  que  Zaire. 

Write  1 

4  Van  mncrte  tan  escondida, 

Que  no  te  sienta  venir, 
Porque  el  plazer  del  morir 
No  me  tome  a  dar  la  vida.' 

That's  Spanish — from  Miguel  de  Cervantes.  '  Come  quickly,  O 
death !  but  be  sure  and  don't  let  me  see  you  coming,  lest  the 
pleasure  I  shall  feel  at  your  appearance  should  unfortunately 
bring  me  back  again  to  life.'  This  you  may  slip  in  quite  a 
propos  when  you  are  struggling  in  the  last  agonies  with  the 
chicken-bone.  Write ! 

'  II  forcer  'huomo  che  non  se'n  era  accorto, 
Andava  combattendo,  e  era  morto.' 

That's  Italian,  you  perceive — from  Ariosto.  It  means  that  a 
great  hero,  in  the  heat  of  combat,  not  perceiving  that  he  ha-3 


238  HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD  ARTICLE. 

been  fairly  killed,  continued  to  fight  valiantly,  dead  as  hs  was. 
The  application  of  this  to  your  own  case  is  obvious — for  I  trust, 
Miss  Psyche,  that  you  will  not  neglect  to  kick  for  at  least  an 
hour  and  a  half  after  you  have  been  choked  to  death  by  th»t 
chicken-bone.  Please  to  write! 

'  Und  stcrb'ich  dock,  no  slcrVich  dcnn 
Durch  sic  —  durch  sie  /' 

That's  German — from  Schiller.  '  And  if  I  die,  at  least  I  die  - 
for  thee — for  thee  !'  Here  it  is  clear  that  you  are  apostrophizing 
the  cause  of  your  disaster,  the  chicken.  Indeed  what  gentleman 
(or  lady  either)  of  sense,  wouldn't  die,  I  should  like  to  know, 
for  a  well  fattened  capon  of  the  right  Molucca  breed,  stuffed 
with  capers  and  mushrooms,  and  served  up  in  a  salad-bowl,  with 
orange-jellies  en  mosaiques.  Write !  (You  can  get  them  that 
way  at  Tortrni's), — Write,  if  you  please  ! 

"  Here  is  a  nice  little  Latin  phrase,  and  rare  too,  (one  can't 
be  too  recherche  or  brief  in  one's  Latin,  it's  getting  so  common), 
— ignomtio  elenchi.  He  has  committed  an  ignor.itio  el  nchi — 
that  is  to  say,  he  has  understood  the  words  of  your  proposition, 
out  not  the  idea.  The  man  was  a  fool,  you  see.  Some  poor 
fellow  whom  you  address  while  choking  with  that  chicken-bone, 
and  who  therefore  didn't  precisely  understand  what  you  were 
talking  about.  Throw  the  ignoratio  elenchi  in  his  teeth,  and,  at 
once,  you  have  him  annihilated.  If  he  dare  to  reply,  you  can 
tell  him  from  Lucan  (here  it  is)  that  speeches  are  mere  anemonae 
verborum,  anemone  words.  The  anemone,  with  great  brilliancy, 
has  no  smell.  Or,  if  he  begin  to  bluster,  you  may  be  down  upon 
him  with  insomnia  Jovis.  reveries  of  Jupiter — a  phrase  which 
Silius  Italicus  (see  here !)  applies  to  thoughts  pompous  and  in- 
flated. This  will  be  sure  and  cut  him  to  the  heart.  He  can  do 
nothing  but  roll  over  and  die.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
write  ? 

"  In  Greek  we  must  have  something  pretty — from  Demos- 
thenes, for  example.  Avepo  (psvyuv  xai  *aXiv  ^cr^sa'STai.  [Aner 
o  pheugon  kai  palin  makesetai].  There  is  a  tolerably  good 
translation  of  it  in  Hudibras — 

For  he  that  flies  may  fight  again, 
Which  he  can  never  do  that's  slaia. 


HOW  TO  WRITE  A  BLACKWOOD   ARTICLE.  2?9 

In  a  Blackwood  article  nothing  makes  so  fine  a  show  as  your 
Greek.  The  very  letters  have  an  air  of  profundity  about  them. 
Only  observe,  madam,  the  astute  look  of  that  Epsilon !  That 
Phi  ought  certainly  to  be  a  bishop  !  Was  ever  there  a  smarter 
fellow  than  that  Omicron  ?  Just  twig  that  Tau  !  In  short,  there 
is  nothing  like  Greek  for  a  genuine  sensation-paper.  In  the 
present  case  your  application  is  the  most  obvious  thing  in  the 
world.  Rap  out  the  sentence,  with  a  huge  oath,  and  by  way 
of  ultimatum  at  the  good-for-nothing  dunder-headed  villain  who 
couldn't  understand  your  plain  English  in  relation  to  the  chicken- 
bone.  He'll  take  the  hint  and  be  off,  you  may  depend  upon  it." 

These  were  all  the  instructions  Mr.  B.  could  afford  me  upon 
the  topic  in  question,  but  I  felt  they  would  be  entirely  sufficient. 
I  was,  at  length,  able  to  write  a  genuine  Blackwood  article,  and 
determined  to  do  it  forthwith.  In  taking  leave  of  me,  Mr  B. 
made  a  proposition  for  the  purchase  of  the  paper  when  written ; 
but  as  he  could  offer  me  only  fifty  guineas  a  sheet,  I  thought  it 
Letter  to  let  our  society  have  it,  than  sacrifice  it  for  so  paltry  a 
Bum.  Notwithstanding  this  niggardly  spirit,  however,  the  gentle- 
man showed  his  consideration  for  me  in  all  other  respects,  and 
indeed  treated  me  with  the  greatest  civility.  His  parting  word, 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  my  heart,  and  I  hope  I  shall 
always  remember  them  with  gratitude. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Zenobia,"  he  said,  while  the  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes,  "  is  there  anything  else  I  can  do  to  promote  the  success  of 
your  laudable  undertaking?  Let  me  reflect!  It  is  just  possible 
that  you  may  not  be  able,  so  soon  as  convenient,  to — to — get 
yourself  drowned,  or — choked  with  a  chicken-bone,  or — or  hung, 
— or — bitten  by  a — but  stay !  Now  I  think  me  of  it,  there  are 
a  couple  of  very  excellent  bull-dogs  in  the  yard — fine  fellows,  I 
'assure  you — savage,  and  all  that — indeed  just  the  thing  for  your 
money — they'll  have  you  eaten  up,  auriculas  and  all,  in  less  than 
five  minutes  (here's  my  watch !) — and  then  only  think  of  the 
sensations  !  Here  !  I  say — Tom  ! — Peter .' — Dick,  you  villain  ! 
— let  out  those" — but  as  I  was  really  in  a  great  hurry,  and  had 
not  another  moment  to  spare,  I  was  reluc  antly  forced  to  expe« 
dite  my  depavture,  and  accordingly  took  leave  at  once — some* 


£40  HOW  TO  WRITE  A  MAGAZINE  ARTICLE. 

what  more  abruptly,  I  admit,  than  strict  courtesy  would  have 
otherwise,  allowed. 

It  was  my  primary  object  upon  quitting  Mr.  Blackwood,  to 
get  into  some  immediate  difficulty,  pursuant  to  his  ad\7ice,  and 
with  this  view  I  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  wandering 
about  Edinburg,  seeking  for  desperate  adventures — adventures 
adequate  to  the  intensity  of  my  feelings,  and  adapted  to  the  vast 
character  of  the  article  I  intended  to  write.  In  this  excursion 
I  was  attended  by  one  negro-servant  Pompey,  and  my  little  lap- 
dog  Diana,  whom  I  had  brought  with  me  from  Philadelphia.  It 
was  not,  however,  until  late  in  the  afternoon  that  I  fully  succeeded 
in  my  arduous  undertaking.  An  important  event  then  happened 
of  which  the  following  Blackwood  article,  in  the  tone  heteroge- 
neous, is  the  substance  and  result. 


1  PREDICAMENT. 

What  chance,  good  lady,  hath  bereft  you  thus  ? — CoMUS. 

• 

IT  was  a  quiet  and  still  afternoon  when  I  strolled  forth  in  the 
goodly  city  of  Edina.  The  confusion  and  bustle  in  the  streets 
were  terrible.  Men  were  talking.  Women  w«ire  screaming. 
Children  were  choking.  Pigs  were  whistlir.g.  Carts  they 
rattled.  Bulls  they  bellowed.  Cows  they  lowed.  Horses  they 
neighed.  Cats  they  caterwauled.  Dogs  they  danced.  Danced! 
Could  it  then  be  possible?  Danced!  Alas,  thought  I,  my  danc- 
ing days  are  over !  Thus  it  is  ever.  What  a  host  of  gloomy 
recollections  will  ever  and  anon  be  awakened  in  the  mind  of 
genius  and  imaginative  contemplation,  especially  of  a  genius 
doomed  to  the  everlasting,  and  eternal,  and  continual,  and,  as 
one  might  say,  the — continued — yes,  the  continued  and  continu- 
ous, bitter,  harassing,  disturbing,  and,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the 
expression,  the  very  disturbing  influence  of  the  serene,  and  god- 
like, and  heavenly,  and.  exalting,  and  elevated,  and  purifying 
effect  of  what  may  be  rightly  termed  the  most  enviable,  the 
most  truly  enviable — nay !  the  most  benignly  beautiful,  the  most 
deliriously  ethereal,  and,  as  it  were,  the  most  pretty  (if  I  may 
use  so  bold  an  expression)  thing  (pardon  me,  gentle  reader !)  in 
the  word — but  I  am  always  led  away  by  my  feelings.  In  such 
a  mind,  I  repeat,  what  a  host  of  recollections  are  stirred  up  by  a 
trifle  !  The  dogs  danced  !  1 — I  could  not !  They  frisked — I 
wept.  They  capered — I  sobbed  aloud.  Touching  circum- 
stances !  which  cannot  fail  to  bring  to  the  recollection  of  the 
classical  reader  that  exquisite  passage  in  relation  to  the  fitness 
of  things,  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  commencement  of  the 


242  A  PREDICAMENT. 

third  volume  of  that  admirable  and  venerable   Chinese  novei, 
the  Jo- Go- Slow. 

In  my  solitary  walk  through  the  city  I  had  two  humble  but 
faithful  companions.  Diana,  my  poodle  !  sweetest  of.  creatures ! 
She  had  a  quantity  of  hair  over  her  one  eye,  and  a  blue  riband 
tied  fashionably  around  her  neck.  Diana  was  not  more  than  five 
inches  in  height,  but  her  head  was  somewhat  bigger  than  her  body, 
and  her  tail,  being  cut  off  exceedingly  close,  gave  an  air  of  in- 
jured innocence  to  the  interesting  animal  which  rendered  her  a 
favorite  with  all. 

And  Pompey,  my  negro  ! — sweet  Pompey !  how  shall  I  ever 
forget  thee  ?  I  had  taken  Pompey's  arm.  He  was  three  feet  in 
height  (I  like  to  be  particular)  and  about  seventy,  or  perhaps 
eighty,  years  of  age.  He  had  bow-legs  and  was  corpulent.  His 
mouth  should  not  be  called  small,  nor  his  ears  short.  His  teeth, 
however,  were  like  pearl,  and  his  large  full  eyes  were  deliciously 
white.  Nature  had  endowed  him  with  no  neck,  and  had  placed 
his  ankles  (as  usual  with  that  race)  in  the  middle  of  the  upper 
portion  of  the  feet.  He  was  clad  with  a  striking  simplicity. 
His  sole  garments  were  a  stock  of  nine  inches  in  height,  and  a 
nearly-new  drab  overcoat  which  had  formerly  been  in  the  service 
of  the  tall,  stately,  and  illustrious  Dr.  Moneypenny.  It  was  a 
good  overcoat.  It  was  well  cut.  It  was  well  made.  The  coat 
was  nearly  new.  Pompey  held  it  up  out  of  the  dirt  with  both 
hands. 

There  were  three  persons  in  our  party,  and  two  of  them  have 
already  been  the  subject  of  remark.  There  was  a  third — that 
third  person  was  myself.  I  am  the  Seignora  Psyche  Zenobia. 
I  am  not  Suky  Snobbs.  My  appearance  is  commanding.  On 
the  memorable  occasion  of  which  I  speak  I  was  habited  in  a 
crimson  satin  dress,  with  a  sky-blue  Arabian  mantelet.  And 
the  dress  had  trimmings  of  green  agraffas,  and  seven  graceful 
Hounces  of  the  orange  colored  auricula.  I  thus  formed  the  third 
of  the  pni'ty.  There  was  the  poodle.  There  was  Pompey. 
There  was  myself.  We  were  three.  Thus  it  is  said  there  wera 
originally  but  three  Furies — Melty,  Nimmy  and  Hetty — Medi 
tation,  Memory  and  Fiddling. 

Leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the  gallant  Pompey,  and  attended 


A   PREDICAMENT  243 

at  a  respectful  distance  by  Diana,  I  proceeded  down  one  of  the 
populous  and  very  pleasant  streets  of  the  now  deserted  Edina. 
On  a  sudden,  there  presented  itself  to  view  a  church — a  Gothic 
cathedral — vast,  venerable,  and  with  a  tall  steeple,  which  tower- 
ed into  the  sky.  What  madness  now  possessed  me?  Why  did  I 
rush  upon  my  fate  ?  I  was  seized  with  an  uncontrollable  desire 
to  ascend  the  giddy  pinnacle,  and  thence  survey  the  immense 
extent  of  the  city.  The  door  of  the  cathedral  stood  invitingly 
open.  My  destiny  prevailed.  I  entered  the  ominous  archway. 
Where  then  was  my  guardian  angel  ? — if  indeed  such  angels 
there  be.  If!  Distressing  monosyllable !  what  a  world  of 
mystery,  and  meaning,  and  doubt,  and  uncertainty  is  there  in- 
volved in  thy  two  letters  !  I  entered  the  ominous  archway  !  I 
entered ;  and,  without  injury  to  my  orange-colored  auriculas,  I 
passed  beneath  the  portal,  and  emerged  within  the  vestibule. 
Thus  it  is  said  the  immense  river  Alfred  passed,  unscathed,  and 
un wetted,  beneath  the  sea. 

I  thought  the  staircases  would  never  have  an  end.  Round! 
Yes,  they  went  round  and  up,  and  round  and  up  and  round  and 
up,  until  I  could  not  help  surmising,  with  the  sagacious  Pompey, 
upon  whose  supporting  arm  I  leaned  in  all  the  confidence  of  early 
affection — I  could  not  help  surmising  that  the  upper  end  of  the 
continuous  spiral  ladder  had  been  accidentally,  or  perhaps  de- 
signedly, removed.  I  paused  for  breath;  and,  in  the  meantime, 
an  incident  occurred  of  too  momentous  a  nature  in  a  moral,  and 
also  in  a  metaphysical  point  of  view,  to  be  passed  over  without 
notice.  It  appeared  to  me — indeed  I  was  quite  confident  of  the, 
fact — I  could  not  be  mistaken — no !  I  had,  for  some  moments, 
carefully  and  anxiously  observed  the  motions  of  my  Diana — -I 
pay  that  I  could  not  be  mistaken — Diana  smelt  a  rat!  At  once  I 
called  Pompey's  attention  to  the  subject,  and  he — he  agreed  with 
me.  There  was  then  no  longer  any  reasonable  room  for  doubt. 
The  rat  had  been  smelled — and  by  Diana.  Heavens  !  shall  I 
over  forget  the  intense  excitement  of  that  moment  ?  Alas ! 
what  is  the  boasted  intellect  of  man?  The  rat! — it  was  there — • 
that  is  to  say,  it  was  somewhere.  Diana  smelled  the  rat.  I — 7 
tould  not !  Thus  it  is  said  the  Prussian  Isis  has,  for  some  per 


244  A  PREDICAMENT. 

sons,  a  sweet  and  very  powerful  perfume,  while  to  others  il  U 
perfectly  scentless. 

The  staircase  had  been  surmounted,  and  there  were  now  only 
three  or  four  more  upward  steps  intervening  between  us  and  tho 
summit.  We  still  ascended,  and  now  only  one  step  remained. 
One  step  !  One  little,  little  step  !  Upon  one  such  little  step  in  the 
great  staircase  of  human  life  how  vast  a  sum  of  human  happiness 
or  misery  often  depends  !  I  thought  of  myself,  then  of  Pompey, 
and  then  of  the  mysterious  and  inexplicable  destiny  which  sur- 
rounded us.  I  thought  of  Pompey  ! — alas,  I  thought  of  love  !  I 
thought  of  the  many  false  steps  which  have  been  taken,  and  may 
be  taken  again.  I  resolved  to  be  more  cautious,  more  reserved. 
I  abandoned  the  arm  of  Pompey,  and,  without  his  assistance, 
surmounted  the  one  remaining  step,  and  gained  the  chamber  of 
the  belfry.  I  was  followed  immediately  afterwards  by  my  poo- 
dle. Pompey  alone  remained  behind.  I  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  staircase,  and  encouraged  him  to  ascend.  He  stretched  forth 
to  me  his  hand,  and  unfortunately  in  so  doing  was  forced  to 
abandon  his  firm  hold  upon  the  overcoat.  Will  the  gods  never 
cease  their  persecution  ?  The  overcoat  it  dropped,  and,  with  one 
of  his  feet,  Pompey  stepped  upon  the  long  and  trailing  skirt  of 
the  overcoat.  He  stumbled  and  fell — this  consequence  was-in- 
evitable.  He  fell  forwards,  and,  with  his  accursed  head,  striking 
me  full  in  the — in  the  breast,  precipitated  me  headlong,  together 
with  himself,  upon  the  hard,  filthy  and  detestable  floor  of  the 
belfry.  But  my  revenge  was  sure,  sudden  and  complete.  Seizing 
him  furiously  by  the  wool  with  both  hands,  I  tore  out  a  vast 
quantity  of  the  black,  and  crisp,  and  curling  material,  and  tossed 
it  from  me  with  every  manifestation  of  disdain.  It  fell  among 
the  ropes  of  the  belfry  and  remained.  Pompey  arose,  and  said 
no  word.  But  he  regarded  me  piteously  with  his  large  eyes 
and — sighed.  Ye  gods — that  sigh !  It  sunk  into  my  heart. 
And  the  hair — the  wool !  Could  I  have  reached  that  wool  I 
would  have  bathed  it  with  my  tears,  in  testimony  of  regret.  But 
alas !  it  was  now  far  beyond  my  grasp.  As  it  dangled  among 
the  cordage  of  the  bell,  I  fancied  it  still  alive.  I  fancied  that  it 
stood  on  end  with  indignation.  Thus  the  happydandy  Flos  Aeris 
:-f  Java,  bears,  it  is  said,  a  beautiful  flower,  which  will  live  wheu 


A  PREDICAMENT.  245 

pulled  up  by  the  roots.  The  natives  suspend  it  by  a  cord  from 
the  ceiling  and  enjoy  its  fragrance  for  years. 

Our  quarrel  was  now  made  up,  and  we  looked  about  the  room 
for  an  aperture  through  which  to  survey  the  city  of  Edina. 
Windows  there  were  none.  The  sole  light  admitted  into  the 
gloomy  chamber  proceeded  from  a  square  opening,  about  a  foot 
in  diameter,  at  a  height  of  about  seven  feet  from  the  floor.  Yet 
what  will  the  energy  of  true  genius  not  effect  ?  I  resolved  to 
clamber  up  to  this  hole.  A  vast  quantity  of  wheels,  pinions,  and 
other  cabalistic  looking  machinery  stood  opposite  the  hole,  close  to 
it :  and  through  the  hole  there  passed  an  iron  rod  from  the  ma 
chinery.  Between  the  wheels  and  the  wall  where  the  hole  lay 
there  was  barely  room  for  my  body — yet  I  was  desperate,  and 
determined  to  persevere.  I  called  Pompey  to  my  side. 

"  You  perceive  that  aperture,  Pompey.  I  wish  to  look  through 
it.  You  will  stand  here  just  beneath  the  hole — so.  Now,  hold 
out  one  of  your  hands,  Pompey,  and  let  me  step  upon  it — thus. 
Now,  the  other  hand,  Porapey,  and  with  its  aid  I  will  get  upon 
your  shoulders." 

He  did  everything  I  wished,  and  I  found,  upon  getting  up, 
that  I  could  easily  pass  my  head  and  neck  through  the  aperture. 
The  prospect  was  sublime.  Nothing  could  be  more  magnificent. 
I  merely  paused  a  moment  to  bid  Diana  behave  herself,  and  as- 
sure Pompey  that  I  would  be  considerate  and  bear  as  lightly  as 
possible  upon  his  shoulders.  I  told  him  I  would  be  tender  of 
his  i'eelings — ossi  tender  que  beefsteak.  Having  done  this  justice 
to  my  faithful  friend,  I  gave  myself  up  with  great  zest  and  en- 
thusiasm to  the  enjoyment  of  the  scene  which  so  obligingly  spread 
itself  out  before  my  eyes. 

Upon  this  subject,  however,  I  shall  forbear  to  dilate.  I  will 
not  describe  the  city  of  Edinburgh.  Every  one  has  been  to 
Edinburgh — the  classic  Edina.  I  will  confine  myself  to  the 
momentous  details  of  my  own  lamentable  adventure.  Having, 
in  some  measure,  satisfied  my  curiosity  in  regard  to  the  extent, 
situation,  ami  general  appearance  of  the  city,  I  had  leisure  to 
survey  the  church  in  which  I  was,  and  the  delicate  architecture 
of  the  steeple.  I  observed  that  the  aperture  through  which  I  had 
thri'*t  my  head  was  an  opening  in  the  dial-plate  of  a  gigantic 


246  A  PREDICAMENT. 

clock,  and  must  have  appeared,  from  the  street,  as  a  large  key 
hole,  such  as  we  see  in  the  face  of  French  watches.  No  doubl 
the  true  object  was  to  admit  the  arm  of  an  attendant,  to  adjust, 
when  necessary,  the  hands  of  the  clock  from  within.  I  observed 
also,  with  surprise,  the  immense  size  of  these  hands,  the  longest 
of  which  could  not  have  been  less  than  ten  feet  in  length,  and. 
where  broadest,  eight  or  nine  inches  in  breadth.  They  were  of 
solid  steel  apparently,  and  their  edges  appeared  to  be  sharp 
Having  noticed  these  particulars,  and  some  others,  I  again  turned 
my  eyes  upon  the  glorious  prospect  below,  and  soon  became  ab 
sorbed  in  contemplation. 

From  this,  after  some  minutes,  I  was  aroused  by  the  voice  of 
Pompey,  who  declared  he  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  requested 
that  I  would  be  so  kind  as  to  come  down.  This  was  unreason- 
able, and  I  told  him  so  in  a  speech  of  some  length.  He  replied 
but  with  an  evident  misunderstanding  of  my  ideas  upon  the  sub- 
ject. I  accordingly  grew  angry,  and  told  him  in  plain  words, 
that  he  was  a  fool,  that  he  had  committed  an  ignoramus  e-clench- 
eye,  that  his  notions  were  mere  insommary  Bovis,  and  his  words 
little  better  than  an  ennemywerrybor'ein.  With  this  he  appeared 
satisfied,  and  I  resumed  my  contemplations. 

It  might  have  been  half  an  hour  after  this  altercation  when, 
a-*  I  was  deeply  absorbed  in  the  heavenly  scenery  beneath  me,  I 
was  startled  by  something  very  cold  which  pressed  with  a  gentle 
pressure  upon  the  back  of  my  neck.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  I 
felt  inexpressibly  alarmed.  I  knew  that  Pompey  was  beneath 
my  feet,  and  that  Diana  was  sitting,  according  to  my  explicit 
directions,  upon  her  hind  legs  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room. 
What  could  it  be ?  Alas!  I  but  too  soon  discovered.  Turning 
my  head  gently  to  one  side,  I  perceived,  to  my  extreme  horror, 
that  the  huge,  glittering,  scimetar-like  minute-hand  of  the  clock, 
had,  in  the  course  of  its  hourly  revolution,  descended  upon  my 
t^ck.  There  was,  I  knew,  not  a  second  to  be  lost.  I  pulled 
back  at  once — but  it  was  too  late.  There  was  no  chance  of 
forcing  my  head  through  the  mouth  of  that  terrible  trap  in  which 
it  was  so  fairly  caught,  and  which  grew  narrower  and  narrower 
with  a  rapidity  too  horrible  to  be  conceived.  The  agony  of  that 
moment  is  not  to  be  iinagine.d.  I  threw  up  ray  hands  and  endea* 


A  PREDICAMENT.  %      247 

vored,  with  all  my  strength,  to  force  upward  the  ponderous  iron 
bar.  I  might  as  well  have  tried  to  lift  the  cathedral  itself. 
Down,  down,  down  it  came,  closer  and  yet  closer.  I  screamed 
to  Pompey  for  aid :  but  he  said  that  I  had  hurt  his  feelings  by 
calling  him  "  an  ignorant  old  squint  eye."  I  yelled  to  Diana  ; 
but  she  only  said  "  bow-wow-wow,"  and  that  "  I  had  told  her  on 
no  account  to  stir  from  the  corner."  Thus  I  had  no  relief  to 
expect  from  my  associates. 

Meantime  the  ponderous  and  terrific  Scythe  of  Time  (for  I 
now  discovered  the  literal  import  of  that  classical  phrase)  had 
not  stopped,  nor  was  it  likely  to  stop,  in  its  career.  Down  and 
still  down,  it  came.  It  had  already  buried  its  sharp  edge  a  full 
inch  in  my  flesh,  and  my  sensations  grew  indistinct  and  confused. 
At  one  time  I  fancied  myself  in  Philadelphia  with  the  stately 
Dr.  Moneypenny,  at  another  in  the  back  parlor  of  Mr.  Black- 
wood  receiving  his  invaluable  instructions.  And  then  again  the 
sweet  recollection  of  better  and  earlier  times  came  over  me, 
and  I  thought  of  that  happy  period  when  the  world  was  not  all 
a  desert,  and  Pompey  not  altogether  cruel. 

The  ticking  of  the  machinery  amused  me.  Amused  me,  I 
say,  for  my  sensations  now  bordered  upon  perfect  happiness,  and 
the  most  trifling  circumstances  afforded  me  pleasure.  The  eternal 
click-clack,  click-clack,  click-clack,  of  the  clock  was  the  most 
melodious  of  music  in  my  ears,  and  occasionally  even  put  me  in 
mind  of  the  grateful  sermonic  harangues  of  Dr.  Ollapod.  Theii 
there  were  the  great  figures  upon  the  dial-plate — how  intelligent, 
how  intellectual,  they  all  looked  !  And  presently  they  took  to 
dancing  the  Mazurka,  and  1  think  it  was  the  figure  V  who  per- 
formed the  most  to  my  satisfaction.  She  was  evidently  a  lady 
of  breeding.  None  of  your  swaggerers,  and  nothing  at  all  in- 
delicate in  her  motions.  She  did  the  pirouette  to  admiration — 
whirling  round  upon  her  apex.  I  made  an  endeavor  to  hand 
her  a  chair,  for  I  saw  that  she  appeared  fatigued  with  her  ex- 
ertions— and  it  was  not  until  then  that  I  fully  perceived  my 
lamentable  situation.  Lamentable  indeed!  The  bar  had  buried 
itself  two  inches  in  my  neck.  I  was  aroused  to  a  sense  of  ex- 
quisite pain.  I  prayed  for  death,  and,  in  the  agony  of  the  mo- 


248  A  PREDICAMENT. 

ment,   could  not  help  repeating  those  exquisite  verses  of  th<s 
poet  Miguel  De  Cervantes  : 

Vanny  Buren,  tan  esconclida 
Query  no  te  senty  venny 
Pork  and  pleasure,  delly  morry 
Nommy,  torny,  darry   widdy  ! 

But  now  a  new  horror  presented  itself,  and  one  indeed  suffi- 
cient to  startle  the  strongest  nerves.  My  eyes,  from  the  cruel 
pressure  of  the  machine,  were  absolutely  starting  from  their 
sockets.  While  I  was  thinking  how  I  should  possihly  manage 
without  them,  one  actually  tumbled  out  of  my  head,  and,  rolling 
down  the  steep  side  of  the  steeple,  lodged  in  the  rain  gutter 
which  ran  along  the  eaves  of  the  main  building.  The  loss  of 
the  eye  was  not  so  much  as  the  insolent  air  of  independence  and 
contempt  with  which  it  regarded  me  after  it  was  out.  There  it 
lay  in  the  gutter  just  under  my  nose,  and  the  airs  it  gave  itself 
would  have  been  ridiculous  had  they  not  been  disgusting.  Such 
a  winking  and  blinking  were  never  before  seen.  This  behavior 
on  the  part  of  my  eye  in  the  gutter  was  not  only  irritating  on 
account  of  its  manifest  insolence  and  shameful  ingratitude,  but 
was  also  exceedingly  inconvenient  on  account  of  the  sympathy 
which  always  exists  between  two  eyes  of  the  same  head,  how- 
ever far  apart.  I  was  forced,  in  a  manner,  to  wink  and  to  blink, 
M7hether  I  would  or  not,  in  exact  concert  with  the  scoundrelly 
thing  that  lay  just  under  my  nose.  I  was  presently  relieved, 
however,  by  the  dropping  out  of  the  other  eye.  In  falling  it  took 
the  same  direction  (possibly  a  concerted  plot)  as  its  fellow. 
Both  rolled  out  of  the  gutter  together,  and  in  truth  I  was  very 
glad  to  get  rid  of  them. 

The  bar  was  now  four  inches  and  a  half  deep  in  my  neck, 
and  there  was  only  a  little  bit  of  skin  to  cut  through.  My  sen- 
sations were  those  of  entire  happiness,  for  I  felt  that  in  a  few 
minutes,  at  farthest,  I  should  be  relieved  from  my  disagreeable 
situation.  And  in  this  expectation  I  was  not  at  all  deceived.  At 
twenty-five  minutes  past  five  in  the  afternoon  precisely,  the 
hucje  minute-hand  had  proceeded  sufficiently  far  on  its  terrible 
revolution  to  sever  the  small  remainder  of  my  neck.  I  was  not 
sorry  to  see  the  head  which  had  occasioned  me  so  much  embar- 


A  PREDICAMENT.  249 

rassraent  at  length  make  a  final  separation  from  my  body  It 
first  rolled  down  the  side  of  the  steeple,  then  lodged,  for  a  few 
.seconds,  in  the  gutter,  and  then  made  its  way,  with  a  plunge, 
into  the  middle  of  the  street. 

I  will  candidly  confess  that  my  feelings  were  now  of  the  most 
singular — nay,  of  the  most  mysterious,  the  most  perplexing  and 
incomprehensible  character.  My  senses  were  here  and  there 
at  one  and  the  same  moment.  With  my  head  I  imagined,  at 
one  time,  that  I  the  head,  was  the  real  Signora  Psyche  Zenobia 
— at  another  I  felt  convinced  that  myself,  the  body,  was  the 
proper  identity.  To  clear  my  ideas  upon  this  topic  I  felt  in  my 
pocket  for  my  snuff-box,  but,  upon  getting  it,  and  endeavoring 
to  apply  a  pinch  of  its  grateful  contents  in  the  ordinary  manner, 
I  became  immediately  aware  of  my  peculiar  deficiency,  and 
threw  the  box  at  once  down  to  my  head.  It  took  a  pinch  with 
great  satisfaction,  and  smiled  me  an  acknowledgment  in  return. 
Shortly  afterwards  it  made  me  a  speech,  which  I  could  hear  but 
indistinctly  without  ears.  I  gathered  enough,  however,  to  know 
that  it  was  astonished  at  my  wishing  to  remain  alive  under  such 
circumstances.  In  the  concluding  sentences  it  quoted  the  noble 
words  of  Ariosto — 

72  paver  hommy  die  non  sera  corty 
And  have  a  combat  tenty  erry  morty  ; 

thus  comparing  me  to  the  hero  who,  in  the  heat  of  the  combat, 
not  perceiving  that  he  was  dead,  continued  to  contest  the  battle 
with  inextinguishable  valor.  There  was  nothing  now  to  prevent 
my  getting  down  from  my  elevation,  and  I  did  so.  What  it  was 
that  Pompey  saw  so  very  peculiar  in  my  appearance  I  have 
never  yet  been  able  to  find  out.  The  fellow  opened  his  mouth 
from  ear  to  ear,  and  shut  his  two  eyes  as  if  he  were  endeavor- 
ing to  crack  nuts  between  the  lids.  Finally,  throwing  off  his 
overcoat,  he  made  one  spring  for  the  staircase  and  disappeared. 
I  hurled  after  the  scoundrel  those  vehement  words  of  Demos 
thenes — 

Andrew  0' '  Phlegethon,  you  really  make  haste  (ofly, 

and  then  turned  to  the  darling  of  my  heart,  to  the  one-eyed! 
the  shaggy-  haired  Diana.  A1&;!  what  a  horrible  vision  affront 


250  A  PREDICAMENT. 

ed  my  eyes  ?  Was  that  a  rat  I  saw  skulking  into  his  hole?  Are 
these  the  picked  bones  of  the  little  angel  who  has  been  cruelly 
devoured  by  the  monster  ?  Ye  Gods  !  and  what  do  I  behold — • 
is  that  the  departed  spirit,  the  shade,  the  ghost  of  my  beloved 
puppy,  which  I  perceive  sitting  with  a  grace  so  melancholy,  in 
the  corner  ?  Harken  !  for  she  speaks,  and,  heavens !  it  is  in  the 
German  of  Schiller — 

"  Unt  stubby  duk,  so  stubby  dun 
Duk  she  !  duk  she  !" 

Alas !  and  are  not  her  words  too  true  ? 

And  if  I  died  at  least  I  died 
For  thee  — for  thee. 

Sweet  creature!  she  too  has  sacrificed  herself  in  my  behalf. 
Dogless,  niggerless,  headless,  what  now  remains  for  the  unhappy 
Signora  Psyche  Zenobia  ?  Alas — nothing  !  I  have  done. 


MYSTIFICATION. 


9/id,  if  these  be  your  "  passados"  aud  "montames,'!  I'll  have  none  of  them. 

NED  KNOWI/KC. 


THE  Baron  Ritzner  von  Jung  was  of  a  noble  Hungarian 
family,  every  member  of  which  (at  least  as  far  back  into  anti- 
quity as  any  certain  records  extend)  was  more  or  less  remark 
able  for  talent  of  some  description — the  majority  for  that  species 
of  grotesquerie  in  conception  of  which  Tieck,  a  scion  of  the  house, 
has  given  some  vivid,  although  by  no  means  the  most  vivid  ex- 
emplifications. My  acquaintance  with  Ritzner  commenced  at  the 
magnificent  Chateau  Jung,  into  which  a  train  of  droll  adventures, 
not  to  be  made  public,  threw  me  during  the  summer  months  of 
the  year  18 — .  Here  it  was  I  obtained  a  place  in  his  regard, 
and  here,  with  somewhat  more  difficulty,  a  partial  insight  into 
his  mental  conformation.  In  later  days  this  insight  grew  more 
clear,  as  the  intimacy  which  had  at  first  permitted  it  became 
more  close  ;  and  when,  after  three  years  separation,  we  met  ai 
G n,  I  knew  all  that  it  was  necessary  to  know  of  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Baron  Ritzner  Von  Jung. 

I  remember  the  buzz  of  curiosity  which  his  advent  excited 
within  the  college  precincts  on  the  night  of  the  twenty-fifth  of 
June.  I  remember  still  more  distinctly,  that  while  he  was  pro- 
nounced by  all  parties  at  first  sight  "the  most  remarkable  man 
in  the  world,"  no  person  made  any  attempt  at  accounting  for  this 
opinion.  That  he  was  unique  appeared  so  undeniable,  that  it  was 
deemed  impertinent  to  inquire  wherein  the  uniquity  consisted- 
But,  letting  this  matter  pass  for  the  present,  I  will  mei*ely  ob- 
serve that,  from  the  first  moment  of  his  setting  foot  within  the 
limits  of  the  university,  he  began  to  exercise  over  the  habits,  man- 


252  MYSTIFICAT  ON. 

• 

ners,  persons,  purses,  and  propensities  of  the  whole  community 
which  surrounded  him,  an  influence  the  most  extensive  and  des- 
potic, yet  at  the  same  time  the  most  indefinitive  and  altogether 
unaccountable.  Thus  the  brief  period  of  his  residence  at  the 
university  forms  an  era  in  its  annals,  and  is  characterized  by  all 
classes  of  people  appertaining  to  it  or  its  dependencies  as  "  that 
very  extraordinary  epoch  forming  the  domination  of  the  Baron 
Ritzner  Von  Jung." 

Upon  his  advent  to  G n,  he  sought  me  out  in  my  apart- 
ments. He  was  then  of  no  particular  age,  by  which  I  mean  that 
it  was  impossible  to  form  a  guess  respecting  his  age  by  any  data 
personally  afforded.  He  might  have  been  fifteen  or  fifty,  and 
was  twenty-one  years  and  seven  months.  He  was  by  no  means 
a  handsome  man — perhaps  the  reverse.  The  contour  of  his  face 
was  somewhat  angular  and  harsh.  His  forehead  was  lofty  and 
very  fair ;  his  nose  a  snub ;  his  eyes  large,  heavy,  glassy  and 
meaningless.  About  the  mouth  there  was  more  to  be  observed. 
The  lips  were  gently  protruded,  and  rested  the  one  upon  the 
other  after  such  fashion  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  any, 
even  the  most  complex,  combination  of  human  features,  convey- 
ing so  entirely,  and  so  singly,  the  idea  of  unmitigated  gravity, 
solemnity  and  repose. 

It  will  be  perceived,  no  doubt,  from  what  I  have  already  said, 
that  the  Baron  was  one  of  those  human  anomalies  now  and  then 
to  be  found,  who  make  the  science  of  mystification  the  study  and 
the  business  of  their  lives.  For  this  science  a  peculiar  turn  of 
mind  gave  him  instinctively  the  cue,  while  his  physical  appear- 
ance afforded  him  unusual  facilities  for  carrying  his  projects  into 

effect.     I  firmly  believe  that  no  student  at  Gj n,  during  that 

renowned  epoch  so  quaintly  termed  the  domination  of  the  Baron 
Ritzner  Von  Jung,  ever  rightly  entered  into  the  mystery  which 
overshadowed  his  character.  I  truly  think  that  no  person  at  tho 
university,  with  the  exception  of  myself,  ever  suspected  him  to 
be  capable  of  a  joke,  verbal  or  practical : — the  old  bull-dog  at  the 
"nrden-fate  would  sooner  have  been  accused, — the  ghost  of 

O  c5  *-J 

Heraclitus, — or  the  wig  of  the  Emeritus  Professor  of  Theology. 
This,  too,  when  it  was  evident  that  the  most  egregious  and  un- 
pardonable of  all  conceivable  tricks,  whimsicalities  and  buffoon 


M  rSTIFf  CATION.  253 

cries  wer^  brought  about,  if  not  directly  by  him,  at  least  plainly 
through  his  intermediate  agency  or  connivance.  The  beauty,  if 
I  may  so  call  it,  of  his  art  mystifique,  lay  in  that  consummate 
ability  (resulting  from  an  almost  intuitive  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  and  a  most  wonderful  self-possession,)  by  means  of  which 
he  never  failed  to  make  it  appear  that  the  drolleries  he  was  oc- 
cupied in  bringing  to  a  point,  arose  partly  in  spite,  and  partly  in 
consequence  of  the  laudable  efforts  he  was  making  for  their  pre- 
vention, and  for  the  preservation  of  the  good  order  and  dignity 
of  Alma  Mater.  The  deep,  the  poignant,  the  overwhelming 
mortification,  which  upon  each  such  failure  of  his  praiseworthy 
endeavors,  would  suffuse  every  lineament  of  his  countenance,  left 
not  the  slightest  room  for  doubt  of  his  sincerity  in  the  bosoms  of 
even  his  most  skeptical  companions.  The  adroitness,  too,  was  no 
less  worthy  of  observation  by  which  he  contrived  to  shift  the 
sense  of  the  grotesque  from  the  creator  to  the  created — from  his 
own  person  to  the  absurdities  to  which  he  had  given  rise.  In 
no  instance  before  that  of  which  I  speak,  have  I  known  the  ha- 
bitual mystific  escape  the  natural  consequence  of  his  ma- 
noeuvres— an  attachment  of  the  ludicrous  to  his  own  character 
and  person.  Continually  enveloped  in  an  atmosphere  of  whim, 
my  friend  appeared  to  live  only  for  the  severities  of  society ;  and 
not  even  his  own  household  have  for  a  moment  associated  other 
ideas  than  those  of  the  rigid  and  august  with  the  memory  of  the 
Baron  Ritzner  Von  Jung. 

During  the  epoch  of  his  residence  at  G n  it  really  ap- 
peared that  the  demon  of  the  dolce  fur  niente  lay  like  an  incubus 
upon  the  university.  Nothing  at  least,  was  done,  beyond  eating 
and  drinking,  and  making  merry.  The  apartments  of  the  stu 
dents  were  converted  into  so  many  pot-houses,  and  there  was  no 
pot-house  of  them  all  more  famous  or  more  frequented  than  that 
of  the  Baron.  Our  carousals  here  were  many,  and  boisterous, 
and  long,  and  never  unfruitful  of  events. 

Upon  one  occasion  we  had  protracted  our  sitting  until  nearly 
daybreak,  and  an  unusual  quantity  of  wine  had  been  drunk. 
The  company  consisted  of  seven  or  eight  individuals  besides  the 
Baron  and  myself.  Most  of  these  were  young  men  of  wealth,  of 
high  connection,  of  great  family  pride,  and  all  alive  with  an 


254  MYSTIFICATION 

exaggerated  sense  ot  honor.  They  abounded  in  the  most  ultra 
German  opinions  respecting  the  duello.  To  these  Quixotic 
notions  some  recent  Parisian  publications,  backed  by  three  or 

four  desperate,  and  fatal  rencontres  at  G n,  had  given  new 

vigor  and  impulse  ;  and  thus  the  conversation,  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  night,  had  run  wild  upon  the  all-engrossing  topic  of 
the  times.  The  Baron,  who  had  been  unusually  silent  and  ab- 
stracted in  the  earlier  portion  of  the  evening,  at  length  seemed 
to  be  aroused  from  his  apathy,  took  a  leading  part  in  the  dis- 
course, and  dwelt  upon  the  benefits,  and  more  especially  upon 
the  beauties,  of  the  received  code  of  etiquette  in  passages  of  arms 
with  an  ardor,  an  eloquence,  an  impressiveness,  and  an  affection- 
ateness  of  manner,  which  elicited  the  warmest  enthusiasm  from 
his  hearers  in  general,  and  absolutely  staggered  even  myself,  who 
well  knew  him  to  be  at  heart  a  ridiculer  of  those  very  points  for 
which  he  contended,  and  especially  to  hold  the  entire  fanfaronade 
of  dueling  etiquette  in  the  sovereign  contempt  which  it  deserves. 
Looking  around  me  during  a  pause  in  the  Baron's  discourse, 
(of  which  my  readers  may  gather  some  faint  idea  when  I  say 
that  it  bore  resemblance  to  the  fervid,  chanting,  monotonous,  yet 
musical,  sermonic  manner  of  Coleridge,)  I  perceived  symptoms  of 
even  more  than  the  general  interest  in  the  countenance  of  one  of  the 
party.  This  gentleman,  whom  I  shall  call  Hermann,  was  an 
original  in  every  respect — except,  perhaps,  in  the  single  particu 
lar  that  he  was  a  very  great  fool.  He  contrived  to  bear,  however, 
among  a  particular  set  at  the  university,  a  reputation  for  deep 
metaphysical  thinking,  and,  I  believe,  for  some  logical  talent.  As 

a  duelist  he  had  acquired  great  renown,  even  at  G n.     I 

forget  the  precise  number  of  victims  who  had  fallen  at  his  hands ; 
but  they  were  many.  He  was  a  man  of  courage  undoubtedly 
But  it  was  upon  his  minute  acquaintance  with  the  etiquette  of 
the  duetto,  and  the  nicety  of  his  sense  of  honor,  that  he  most  espe- 
cially prided  himself.  These  things  were  a  hobby  which  he  rode 
to  the  death.  To  Ritzner,  ever  upon  the  look-out  for  the  gro- 
tesque, his  peculiarities  had  for  a  long  time  past  afforded  food  foi' 
mystification.  Of  this,  however,  I  was  not  aware ;  although,  in 
the  present  instance,  I  saw  clearly  that  something  of  a  whimsical 


MYSTIFICATION.  255 

nature  was  upon  the  tapis  with  my  friend,  and  that  Hermann 
was  its  especial  object. 

As  the  former  proceeded  in  his  discourse,  or  rather  monologue. 
I  perceived  the  excitement  of  the  latter  momently  increasing. 
At  length  he  spoke ;  offering  some  objection  to  a  point  insisted 
upon  by  R.,  and  giving  his  reasons  in  detail.  To  these  the 
Baron  replied  at  length  (still  maintaining  his  exaggerated  tone 
of  sentiment)  and  concluding,  in  what  I  thought  very  bad  taste, 
with  a  sarcasm  and  a  sneer.  The  hobby  of  Hermann  now  took 
the  bit  in  his  teeth.  This  I  could  discern  by  the  studied  hair- 
splitting farrago  of  his  rejoinder.  His  last  words  I  distinctly 
remember.  "  Your  opinions,  allow  me  to  say,  Baron  Von  Jung, 
although  in  the  main  correct,  are,  in  many  nice  points,  discredit- 
able to  yourself  and  to  the  university  of  which  you  are  a  mem- 
ber. In  a  few  respects  they  are  even  unworthy  of  serious  refu- 
tation. I  would  say  more  than  this,  sir,  were  it  not  for  the  fear 
of  giving  you  offence  (here  the  speaker  smiled  blandly,)  I  would 
say,  sir,  that  your  opinions  are  not  the  opinions  to  be  expected 
from  a  gentleman." 

As  Hermann  completed  this  equivocal  sentence,  all  eyes  were 
turned  upon  the  Baron.  He  became  pale,  then  excessively  red ; 
then,  dropping  his  pocket-handkerchief,  stooped  to  recover  it, 
when  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  countenance,  while  it  could  be 
seen  by  no  one  else  at  the  table.  It  was  radiant  with  the  quiz- 
zical expression  which  was  its  natural  character,  but  which  I 
had  never  seen  it  assume  except  when  we  were  alone  together, 
and  when  he  unbent  himself  freely.  In  an  instant  afterward  he 
stood  erect,  confronting  Hermann  ;  and  so  total  an  alteration  of 
countenance  in  so  short  a  period  I  certainly  never  saw  before. 
For  a  moment  I  even  fancied  that  I  had  misconceived  him,  and  that 
he  was  in  sober  earnest.  He  appeared  to  be  stifling  with  pas» 
sion,  and  his  face  was  cadaverously  white.  For  a  short  time  he 
remained  silent,  apparently  striving  to  master  his  emotion. 
Having  at  length  seemingly  succeeded,  he  reached  a  decanter 
which  stood  near  him,  saying  as  he  held  it  firmly  clenched — 
"The  language  you  have  thought  proper  to  employ,  Mynheer 
Hermann,  in  addressing  yourself  to  me,  is  objectionable  in  so  many 
particulars,  (hat  I  hav 3  neither  temper  nor  time  for  specifica- 


256  MYSTIFICATION. 

tion.  That  my  opinions,  however,  are  not  the  opinions  to  be 
expected  from  a  gentleman,  is  an  observation  so  directly 
offensive  as  to  allow  me  but  one  line  of  conduct.  Some  courtesy, 
nevertheless,  is  due  to  the  presence  of  this  company,  and  to 
yourself,  at  this  moment,  as  my  guest.  You  will  pardon  me, 
therefore,  if,  upon  this  consideration,  I  deviate  slightly  from  the 
general  usage  among  gentlemen  in  similar  cases  of  personal  af- 
front. You  will  forgive  me  for  the  moderate  tax  I  shall  make 
upon  your  imagination,  and  endeavor  to  consider,  for  an  instant, 
the  reflection  of  your  person  in  yonder  mirror  as  the  living  Myn- 
heer Hermann  himself.  This  being  done,  there  will  be  no  diffi- 
culty whatever.  I  shall  discharge  this  decanter  of  wine  at  your 
image  in  yonder  mirror,  and  thus  fulfil  all  the  spirit,  if  not  the 
exact  letter,  of  resentment  for  your  insult,  while  the  necessity  of 
physical  violence  to  your  real  person  will  be  obviated." 

With  these  woi'ds  he  hurled  the  decanter,  full  of  wine,  against 
the  mirror  Avhich  hung  directly  opposite  Hermann  ;  striking  the 
reflection  of  his  person  with  great  precision,  and  of  course  shat- 
tering the  glass  into  fragments.  The  whole  company  at  once 
started  to  their  feet,  and,  with  the  exception  of  myself  and  Ritz- 
ner,  took  their  departure.  As  Hermann  went  out,  the  Baron 
whispered  me  that  I  should  follow  him  and  make  an  offer  of  my 
Cervices.  To  this  I  agreed  ;  not  knowing  precisely  what  to  make 
of  so  ridiculous  a  piece  of  business. 

The  duelist  accepted  my  aid  with  his  stiff  and  ultra  recherche 
air,  and,  taking  my  arm,  led  me  to  his  apartment.  I  could  hardly 
forbear  laughing  in  his  face  while  he  proceeded  to  discuss,  with 
the  profoundest  gravity,  what  he  termed  "  the  refinedly  peculiar 
character"  of  the  insult  he  had  received.  After  a  tiresome 
harangue  in  his  ordinary  style,  he  took  down  from  his  book- 
shelves a  number  of  musty  volumes  on  the  subject  of  the  duello, 
and  entertained  me  for  a  long  time  with  their  contents ;  reading 
aloud,  and  commenting  earnestly  as  he  read.  I  can  just  remem- 
ber the  titles  of  some  of  the  works.  There  were  the  "  Ordon- 
nance  of  Philip  le  Bel  on  Single  Combat ;"  the  "  Theatre  of 
Honor,"  by  Favyn,  and  a  treatise  "  On  the  Permission  of  Duels," 
by  Andiguier.  He  displayed,  also,  with  much  pomposity,  Bran- 
tome's  "Memoirs  of  Duels,"  published  at  Cologne,  iu  1GG'5,  in 


MYSTIFICATION. 


257 


the  types  of  Elzevir — a  precious  and  unique  vellum-paper 
volume,  with  a  fine  margin,  and  bound  by  Derome.  But  he  re« 
quested  my  attention  particularly,  and  with  an  air  of  mysteriou? 
sagacity,  to  a  thick  octavo,  written  in  barbarous  Latin  by  one 
Hedelin,  a  Frenchman,  and  having  the  quaint  title,  "  Duelli  Lex 
Scripta,  et  non ;  aliterque"  From  this  he  read  me  one  of  the 
drollest  chapters  in  the  world  concerning  "  Injuries  per  applica- 
tionem,  per  constructionem,  et  per  se,"  about  half  of  which,  he 
averred,  was  strictly  applicable  to  his  own  "  refinedly  peculiar" 
case,  although  not  one  syllable  of  the  whole  matter  could  I  un- 
derstand for  the  life  of  me.  Having  finished  the  chapter,  he 
closed  the  book,  and  demanded  what  I  thought  necessary  to  be 
done.  I  replied  that  I  had  entire  confidence  in  his  superior  deli- 
cacy of  feeling,  and  would  abide  by  what  he  proposed.  With 
this  answer  he  seemed  flattered,  and  sat  down  to  write  a  note  to 
the  Baron.  It  ran  thus  : 

SIR, — My  friend,  M.  P ,  will  hand  you  this  note.     I  find 

it  incumbent  upon  me  to  request,  at  your  earliest  convenience,  an 
explanation  of  this  evening's  occurrences  at  your  chambers.  In 
the  event  of  your  declining  this  request,  Mr.  P.  will  be  happy  to 
arrange,  with  any  friend  whom  you  may  appoint,  the  steps  pre- 
liminary to  a  meeting. 

With  sentiments  of  perfect  respect, 

Your  most  humble  servant, 

JOHAN  HERMANN. 
To  ike  Baron  Rilzner  Von  Jung, 
August  18th,  18—. 

Not  knowing  what  better  to  do,  I  called  upon  Ritzner  with 
tliis  epistle.  He  bowed  as  I  presented  it ;  then,  with  a  grave 
countenance,  motioned  me  to  a  seat.  Having  perused  the  cartel 
he  wrote  the  following  reply,  which  I  carried  to  Hermann. 

SIR, 

Through  our  common  friend,  Mr.  P.,  I  have  received  your 
note  of  this  evening.  Upon  due  reflection  I  frankly  admit  the 
propriety  of  the  explanation  you  suggest.  This  being  admitted, 
I  still  find  great  difficulty,  (owing  to  the  refinedly  peculiar  nature 


258  MYSTIFICATION. 

of  our  disagreement,  and  of  the  personal  affront  offered  on  my 
part,)  in  so  wording  what  I  have  to  say  by  way  of  apology,  as  to 
meet  all  the  minute  exigencies,  and  all  the  variable  shadows  of 
the  case.  I  have  great  reliance,  however,  on  that  extreme  deli- 
cacy of  discrimination,  in  matters  appertaining  to  the  rules  of 
etiquette,  for  which  you  have  been  so  long  and  so  pre-eminently 
distinguished.  With  perfect  certainty,  therefore,  of  being  com- 
prehended, I  beg  leave,  in  lieu  of  offering  any  sentiments  of  my 
own.  to  refer  you  to  the  opinions  of  the  Sieur  Hedelin,  as  set 
forth  in  the  ninth  paragraph  of  the  chapter  of  "  Injuria  per  ap- 
plicationem,  per  constructionem,  et  per  se"  in  his  "  Duelli  Lex 
scripta,  et  non  ;  aliterque"  The  nicety  of  your  discernment  in  all 
the  matters  here  treated,  will  be  sufficient,  I  am  assured,  to  con- 
vince you  that  the  mere  circumstance  of  me  referring  you  to  this 
admirable  passage,  ought  to  satisfy  your  request,  as  a  man  of 
honor,  for  explanation. 

With  sentiments  of  profound  respect, 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 

VON  JCNS. 

The  Herr  Johan  Hermann. 
August  18th,  18 — . 

Hermann  commenced  the  perusal  of  this  epistle  with  a  scowl, 
which,  however,  was  converted  into  a  smile  of  the  most  ludicrous 
self-complacency  as  he  came  to  the  rigmarole  about  Injuries  per 
applicationem,  per  constructionem,  et  per  se.  Having  finished 
reading,  he  begged  me,  with  the  blandest  of  all  possible  smiles, 
to  be  seated,  while  he  made  reference  to  the  treatise  in  question. 
Turning  to  the  passage  specified,  he  read  it  with  great  care  to 
himself,  then  closed  the  book,  and  desired  me,  in  my  character 
of  confidential  acquaintance,  to  express  to  the  Baron  Von  Jung 
his  exalted  sense  of  his  chivalrous  behavior,  and,  in  that  of 
second,  to  assure  him  that  the  explanation  offered  was  of  the 
fullest,  the  most  honorable,  and  the  most  unequivocally  satisfac 
lory  nature. 

Somewhat  amazed  at  all  this,  I  made  my  retreat  to  the  Baron- 
He  seemed  to  receive  Hermann's  amicable  letter  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  after  a  few  words  of  general  conversation,  went  to 


MYSTIFICATION.  359 

an  inner  room  and  brought  out  the  everlasting  treatise  "  DueUi 
Lex  scripta,  et  nan  ;  aliterque."  He  handed  me  the  volume  and 
asked  me  to  look  over  some  portion  of  it.  I  did  so,  but  to  little 
purpose,  not  being  able  to  gather  the  least  particle  of  meaning. 
He  then  took  the  book  himself,  and  read  me  a  chapter  aloud. 
To  my  surprise,  what  he  read  proved  to  be  a  most  horribly  ab- 
surd account  of  a  duel  between  two  baboons.  He  now  explained 
the  mystery  ;  showing  that  the  volume,  as  it  appeared  prima  fa- 
cie, was  written  upon  the  plan  of  the  nonsense  verses  of  Du 
Bartas ;  that  is  to  say,  the  language  was  ingeniously  framed  so 
as  to  present  to  the  ear  all  the  outward  signs  of  intelligibility, 
and  even  of  profundity,  while  in  fact  not  a  shadow  of  meaning 
existed.  The  key  to  the  whole  was  found  in  leaving  out  every 
second  and  third  word  alternately,  when  there  appeared  a  series 
of  ludicrous  quizzes  upon  a  single  combat  as  practised  in  modern 
times. 

The  Baron  afterwards  informed  me  that  he  had  purposely 
thrown  the  treatise  in  Hermann's  way  two  or  three  weeks  before 
the  adventure,  and  that  he  was  satisfied,  from  the  general  tenor 
of  his  conversation,  that  he  had  studied  it  with  the  deepest  atten- 
tion, and  firmly  believed  it  to  be  a  work  of  unusual  merit.  Upon 
this  hint  he  proceeded.  Hermann  would  have  died  a  thousand 
deaths  rather  than  acknowledge  his  inability  to  understand  any 
tning  and  everything  in  the  universe  that  had  ever  been  written 
hbout  the  duello. 


X-ING  A  PABAGRAB. 


As  it  is  well  known  that  the  "  wise  men"  came  "  from  the  East, 
and  as  Mr.  Touch-and-go  Bullet-head  caine  from  the  East,  it 
follows  that  Mr.  Bullet-head  was  a  wise  man ;  and  if  collateral 
proof  of  the  matter  be  needed,  here  we  have  it — Mr.  B.  was  an 
editor.  Irascibility  was  his  sole  foible ;  for  in  fact  the  obstinacy 
of  which  men  accused  him  was  anything  but  his  foible,  since  he 
justly  considered  it  his  forte.  It  was  his  strong  point — his  vir- 
tue ;  and  it  would  have  required  all  the  logic  of  a  Brownson  to 
convince  him  that  it  was  "  anything  else." 

I  have  shown  that  Touch-and-go  Bullet-Head  was  a  wise 
man ;  and  the  only  occasion  on  which  he  did  not  prove  infalli- 
ble, was  when,  abandoning  that  legitimate  home  for  all  wise  men, 
the  East,  he  migrated  to  the  city  of  Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis, 
or  some  place  of  a  similar  title,  out  West. 

I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say,  however,  that  when  he  made 
up  his  mind  finally  to  settle  in  that  town,  it  was  under  the  im- 
pression that  no  newspaper,  and  consequently  no  editor,  existed 
in  that  particular  section  of  the  country.  In  establishing  "  The 
Tea-Pot,"  he  expected  to  have  the  field  all  to  himself.  I  feel 
confident  he  never  would  have  dreamed  of  taking  up  his  resi- 
dence in  Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis,  had  he  been  aware  that, 
in  Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis,  there  lived  a  gentleman  named 
John  Smith  (if  I  rightly  remember),  who,  for  many  years,  had 
there  quietly  grown  fat  in  editing  and-publishing  the  "  Alexan- 
der-the-Great-o-nopolis Gazette."  It  was  solely,  therefore,  on 
account  of  having  been  misinformed,  that  Mr.  Bullet-head  found 


X-ilS'G  A  PARAGKAB. 


2G1 


himself  in  Alex suppose  we  call  it  Nopolis,  "for  short" — but, 

as  he  did  liad  himself  there,  he  determined  to  keep  up  his  charac- 
tei  for  obst —  for  firmness,  and  remain.  So  remain  he  did  ;  and 
he  did  more ;  he  unpacked  his  press,  type,  etc.,  etc.,  rented  an 
office  exactly  opposite  to  that  of  the  "  Gazette,"  and,  on  the  third 
morning  after  his  arrival,  issued  the  first  number  of  "  The 
Alexan" —  that  is  to  say,  of  "  The  Nopolis  Tea-Pot :" — as  nearly 
as  I  can  recollect,  this  was  the  name  of  the  new  paper. 

The  leading  article,  I  must  admit,  was  brilliant — not  to  say 
severe.  It  was  especially  bitter  about  things  in  general — and  as 
for  the  editor  of  "  The  Gazette,"  he  was  torn  all  to  pieces  in 
particular.  Some  of  Bullet-head's  remarks  were  really  so  fiery 
that  I  have  always,  since  that  time,  been  forced  to  look  upon 
John  Smith,  who  is  still  alive,  in  the  light  of  a  salamander.  I 
annot  pretend  to  give  all  the  Tea-pot's  paragraphs  verbatim,  but 
one  of  them  run  thus  : 

"  Oh,  yes  ! — Oh  we  perceive !  Oh,  no  doubt !  The  editor 
over  the  way  is  a  genius — O,  my!  Oh,  goodness,  gracious! — 
what  is  this  world  coming  to?  Oh,  tempora  !  Oh,  Moses!" 

A.  philippic  at  once  so  caustic  and  so  classical,  alighted  like  a 
bombshell  among  the  hitherto  peaceful  citizens  of  Nopolis. 
Groups  of  excited  individuals  gathered  at  the  corners  of  the 
streets.  Every  one  awaited,  with  heartfelt  anxiety,  the  reply  of 
the  dignified  Smith.  Next  morning  it  appeared,  as  follows : 

"  "VVe  quote  from  '  The  Tea-Pot'  of  yesterday  the  subjoined 
paragraph : — •  Oh,  yes  !  Oh,  we  perceive  !  Oh,  no  doubt !  Oh., 
my  !  Oh,  goodness  !  Oh,  tempora  !  Oh,  Moses  !'  Why,  the 
fellow  is  all  O  !  That  accounts  for  his  reasoning  in  a  circle,  and 
explains  why  there  is  neither  beginning  nor  end  to  him,  nor  to 
anything  that  he  says.  We  really  do  not  believe  the  vagabond 
can  write  a  word  that  hasn't  an  O  in  it.  Wonder  if  this  0-ing  is 
a  habit  of  his  ?  By-the-by,  he  came  away  from  Down-East  in  a 
great  hurry.  Wonder  if  he  O's  as  much  there  as  he  does  here  ? 
•0/  it  is  pitiful.'" 

The  indignation  of  Mr.  Bullet-head  at  these  scandalous  insin- 
uations, I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe.  On  the  eel-skinning 
principle,  however,  he  did  not  seem  to  be  so  much  incensed  at 
tho  attack  upon  his  integrity  as  one  might  have  imagined.  It 


262  X-ING  A  PARAGRAB. 

was  the  sneer  at  his  style  that  drove  him  to  desperation.  What ' — 
he  Touch-and-go-Bullet-head  ! — not  able  to  write  a  word  without 
an  0  in  it !  He  would  soon  let  the  jackanapes  see  that  he  was 
mistaken.  Yes  !  he  would  let  him  see  how  much  he  was  mista- 
ken, the  puppy !  He,  Touch-and-go  Bullet-head,  of  Frogpondi- 
um,  would  let  Mr.  John  Smith  perceive  that  he,  Bullet-head, 
could  indite,  if  it  so  pleased  him,  a  whole  paragraph — ay !  a 
whole  article — in  which  that  contemptible  vowel  should  not 
once — not  even  once — make  its  appearance.  But  no  ; — that  would 
be  yielding  a  point  to  the  said  John  Smith.  He,  Bullet-head, 
would  make  no  alteration  in  his  style,  to  suit  the  caprices  of  any 
Mr.  Smith  in  Christendom.  Perish  so  vile  a  thought !  The  O 
forever !  He  would  persist  in  the  O.  He  would  be  as  O-wy  as 
O-wy  could  be. 

Burning  with  the  chivalry  of  this  determination,  the  great 
Touch-and-go,  in  the  next  u  Tea-Pot,"  came  out  merely  with  this 
simple  but  resolute  paragraph,  in  reference  to  this  unhappy 
affair : 

"  The  editor  of  the  '  Tea-Pot'  has  the  honor  of  advising  the 
editor  of  '  The  Gazette'  that  he,  (the  '  Tea-Pot,'J  will  take  an 
opportunity  in  to-morrow  morning's  paper,  of  convincing  him, 
(the  '  Gazette,')  that  he,  (the  '  Tea-Pot,')  both  can  and  will  be 
his  own  master,  as  regards  style  ; — he  (the  '  Tea-pot')  intending 
to  show  him,  (the  '  Gazette,')  the  supreme,  and  indeed  the 
withering  contempt  with  which  the  criticism  of  him,  (the  '  Ga- 
zette,') inspires  the  independent  bosom  of  him,  (the  '  Tea-Pot,') 
by  composing  for  the  especial  gratification  (?)  of  him,  (the 
'  Gazette,')  a  leading  article,  of  some  extent,  in  which  the  beau- 
tiful vowel — the  emblem  of  Eternity — yet  so  inoffensive  to  the 
hyper-exquisite  delicacy  of  him,  (the  '  Gazette,')  shall  most  eei 
tainly  not  be  avoided  by  his  (the  '  Gazette's')  most  obedient, 
humble  servant,  the  '  Tea-pot.'  '  So  much  for  Buckingham ! '  * 

In  fulfilment  of  the  awful  threat  thus  darkly  intimated  rather 
than  decidedly  enunciated,  the  great  Bullet-head,  turning  a  deaf 
ear  to  all  entreaties  for  "  copy,"  and  simply  requesting  his  fore- 
man to  "  go  to  the  d- 1,"  when  he  (the  foreman)  assured  him 

(the  "  Tea-pot !")  that  it  was  high  time  to  "  go  to  press  :"  turning  a 
deaf  ear  to  everything,  I  say,  the  great  Bullet-head  sat  up  until 


X-ING  A  PARAGRAB.  263 

day-break,  consuming  the  midnight  oil,  and  absorbed  in  the  com- 
position of  the  really  unparalleled  paragraph,  which  follows : 

"  So  ho,  John  !  how  now  ?  Told  you  so,  you  know.  Don't 
crow,  another  time,  before  you're  out  of  the  woods  !  Does  you! 
mother  know  you're  out  ?  Oh,  no,  no ! — so  go  home  at  once,  now, 
John,  to  your  odious  old  woods  of  Concord  !  Go  home  to  your 
woods,  old  owl, — go  !  You  wont  ?  Oh,  poh,  poh,  John,  don't  do 
so  !  You've  got  to  go,  you  know  !  So  go  at  once,  and  don't  go 
slow ;  for  nobody  owns  you  here,  you  know.  Oh,  John,  John,  if 
you  don't  go  you're  no  homo — no !  You're  only  a  fowl,  an  owl ; 
a  cow,  a  sow  ;  a  doll,  a  poll ;  a  poor,  old,  good-for-nothing-to- 
nobody,  log,  dog,  hog,  or  frog,  come  out  of  a  Concord  bog.  Cool, 
now — cool !  Do  be  cool,  you  fool !  None  of  your  crowing,  old 
cock  !  Don't  frown  so — don't !  Don't  hollo,  nor  howl,  nor 
growl,  nor  bow- wow- wow  !  Good  Lord,  John,  how  you  do  look ! 
Told  you  so,  you  know — but  stop  rolling  your  goose  of  an  old 
poll  about  so,  and  go  and  drown  your  sorrows  in  a  bowl!" 

Exhausted,  very  naturally,  by  so  stupendous  an  effort,  the 
great  Touch-and-go  could  attend  to  nothing  farther  that  night. 
Firmly,  composedly,  yet  with  an  air  of  conscious  power,  he 
handed  his  MS.  to  the  devil  in  waiting,  and  then,  walking  leisure 
ly  home,  retired,  with  ineffable  dignity,  to  bed. 

Meantime  the  devil  to  whom  the  copy  was  entrusted,  ran  up 
stairs  to  his  "  case,"  in  an  unutterable  hurry,  and  forthwith  made 
a  commencement  at  "  setting"  the  MS.  "  up." 

In  the  first  place,  of  course, — as  the  opening  word  was  "  So" — 
he  made  a  plunge  into  the  capital  S  hole  and  came  out  in  tri- 
umph with  a  capital  S.  Elated  by  this  success,  he  immediately 
threw  himself  upon  the  little-o  box  with  a  blindfold  impetuosi- 
ty— but  who  shall  describe  his  horror  when  his  fingers  came  up 
without  the  anticipated  letter  in  their  clutch  ?  who  shall  paint  his 
astonishment  and  rage  at  perceiving,  as  he  rubbed  his  knuckles, 
that  he  had  been  only  thumping  them  to  no  purpose,  against  the 
bottom  of  an  empty  box.  Not  a  single  little-o  was  in  the  little-o 
hole ;  and,  glancing  fearfully  at  the  capital-O  partition,  he  found 
that,  to  his  extreme  terror,  in  a  precisely  similar  predicament 
Awe-stricken,  his  first  impulse  was  to  rush  to  the  foreman. 

"  Sir  !"  said  he,  gasping  for  breath,  "  I  can't  never  set  up  noth- 
ing without  no  o's. " 


264  X-INU  A  PARAGRAB. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?"  growled  the  foreman,  who  was 
in  a  very  ill-humor  at  being  kept  up  so  late. 

"  Why,  sir,  there  beant  an  o  in  the  office,  neither  a  big  un  noi 
A  little  un  !" 

"  What — what  the  d — 1  has  become  of  all  that  were  in  the 
case  ?" 

"  /don't  know,  sir,"  said  the  boy,  "  but  one  of  them  ere  G'zette 
devils  is  bin  prowling  bout  here  all  night,  and  I  spect  he's  gone 
and  cabbaged  em  every  one." 

"  Dod  rot  him  !  I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  replied  the  foreman, 
getting  purple  wifh  rage — "  but  I  tell  you  what  you  do,  Bob,  that's 
a  good  boy — you  go  over  the  first  chance  you  get  and  hook  every 
one  of  their  i's  and  (d — n  them  !)  their  izzards." 

"  Jist  so,"  replied  Bob,  with  a  wink  and  a  frown — "  I'll  be  into 
em,  I'll  let  em  know  a  thing  or  two ;  but  in  de  meantime,  that 
ere  paragrab  ?  Mus  go  in  to-night,  you  know— else  there'll  be 
the  d — 1  to  pay,  and — " 

"  And  not  a  bit  of  pitch  hot,"  interrupted  the  foreman,  with  a 
deep  sigh  and  an  emphasis  on  the  "  bit."  "  Is  it  a  very  long  para- 
graph, Bob  ?" 

"  Shouldn't  call  it  a  wery  long  paragrab,"  said  Bob. 

"  Ah,  well,  then  !  do  the  best  you  can  with  it  !  we  must  get  to 
press,"  said  the  foreman,  who  was  over  head  and  ears  in  work; 
"just  stick  in  some  other  letter  for  0,  nobody's  going  to  read  the 
fellow's  trash,  any  how." 

"  Wery  well,"  replied  Bob,  "  here  goes  it !"  and  off  he  hurried  to 
his  case ;  muttering  as  he  went — ''  Considdeble  veil,  them  ere 
expressions,  perticcler  for  a  man  as  doesen't  swar.  So  I's  to 

gouge  out  all  their  eyes,  eh  ?  and  d n  all  their  gizzards ! 

Veil!  this  here's  the  chap  as  is  jist  able  for  to  do  it."  The  fact 
is,  that  although  Bob  was  but  twelve  years  old  and  four  feet 
high,  he  was  equal  to  any  amount  of  figfct,  in  a  small  way. 

The  exigency  here  described  is  by  no  means  of  rare  occur- 
rence in  printing-offices  ;  and  I  cannot  tell  how  to  account  for  it, 
but  the  fact  is  indisputable,  that  when  the  exigency  does  occur,  it 
almost  always  happens  that  x  is  adopted  as  a  substitute  for  the 
letter  deficient.  The  true  reason,  perhaps,  is  that  x  is  rather  the 
most  superabundant  letter  in  the  cases,  or  at  least  was  so  in  old 


X-INO  A  PARAGRAB.  265 

times-— long  enough  to  render  the  substitution  in  question  au 
habitual  thing  with  printers.  As  for  Bob,  he  would  have  con- 
sidered it  heretical  to  employ  any  other  character,  in  a  case  of 
this  kind,  than  the  x  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed. 

"  I  shell  have  to  x  this  ere  paragrab,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  read 
it  over  in  astonishment,  "  but  it's  jest  about  the  awfulest  o-wy 
paragrab  I  ever  did  see :"  so  x  it  he  did,  unflinchingly,  and  to 
press  it  went  x-ed. 

Next  morning  the  population  of  Nopolis  were  taken  all  aback 
by  reading,  in  "  The  Tea-pot,"  the  following  extraordinary 
leader : 

"  Sx  hx,  Jxhn  !  hxw  nxw  !  Txld  yxu  sx,  yxu  knxw.  Dxn't 
crxw,  anxther  time,  befxre  yxu're  xut  xf  the  wxxds!  Dxes 
yxur  mxther  knxw  yxu're  xut  ?  Xh,  nx,  nx  !  sx  gx  hxme  at 
xnce,  nxw,  Jxhn,  tx  yxur  xdixus  xld  wxxds  xf  Cxncxrd  !  Gx 
hxme  tx  yxur  wxxds,  xld  xwl, — gx  !  Yxu  wxnt  ?  Xh,  pxh, 
pxh,  Jxhn,  dxnt  dx  sx  !  Yxu've  gxt  tx  gx,  yxu  knxw  !  sx  gx  at 
xnce,  and  dxn't  gx  slxw  ;  fxr  nxbxdy  xwns  yxu  here,  yxu  knxw. 
Xh,  Jxhn,  Jxhn,  if  yxu  dxn't  gx  yxu're  nx  hxmx — nx  !  Yxu're 
xnly  a  fxwl,  an  xwl ;  a  cxw,  a  sxw ;  a  dxll,  a  pxli ;  a  pxxr  xld 
gxxd-fxr-nxthing-tx-nxbxdy  Ixg,  dxg,  hxg,  xr  frxg,  cxme  xut  xf 
a  Cxncxrd  bxg.  Cxxl,  nxw — cxxl !  Dx  be  cxxl,  yxu  fxxl ! 
Nxne  xf  yxur  crxwing,  xld  cxck !  Dxn't  frxwn  sx — dxn't ! 
Dxn't  hxllx,  nxr  hxwl,  nxr  grxwl,  nxr  bxw-wxw-wxw  !  Gxxd 
Lxrd,  Jxhn,  hxw  yxu  dx  Ixxk  !  Txld  yxu  sx,  yxu  knxw,  but 
stxp  rxlling  yxur  gxxse  xf  an  xld  pxll  abxut  sx,  and  gx  and 
drxwn  yxur  sxrrxws  in  a  bxwl !" 

The  uproar  occasioned  by  this  mystical  and  cabalisfical  article, 
is  not  to  be  conceived.  The  first  definite  idea  entertained  by  the 
populace  was,  that  some  diabolical  treason  lay  concealed  in  the 
hieroglyphics ;  and  there  was  a  general  rush  to  Bullet-head's 
residence,  for  the  purpose  of  riding  him  on  a  rail ;  but  that  gen- 
tleman was  nowhere  to  be  found.  He  had  vanished,  no  one 
could  tell  how  ;  and  not  even  the  ghost  of  him  has  ever  been  seen 
since. 

Unable  to  discover  its  legitimate  object,  the  popular  fury  at 
length  subsided  ;  leaving  behind  it,  by  way  of  sediment,  quite  a 
medley  of  opinion  about  this  unhappy  affair. 


266  X-ING  A  PARAGRAB. 

One  gentleman  thought  the  whole  an  X-ellent  joke. 

Another  said  that,  indeed,  Bullet-head  had  shown  much  X-ube 
ranee  of  faney. 

A  third  admitted  him  X-entric,  but  no  more. 

A  fourth  could  only  suppose  it  the  Yankee's  design  to  X-press, 
in  a  general  way,  his  X-asperation. 

"  Say,  rather,  to  set  an  X-ample  to  posterity,"  suggested  a 
fifth. 

That  Bullet-head  had  been  driven  to  an  extremity,  was  clear 
to  all ;  and  in  fact,  since  that  editor  could  not  be  found,  there  was 
some  talk  about  lynching  the  other  one. 

The  more  common  conclusion,  however,  was,  that  the  affaii 
was,  simply,  X-traordinary  and  in-X-plicable.  Even  the  town 
mathematician  confessed  that  he  could  make  nothing  of  so  dark 
a  problem.  X,  everybody  knew,  was  tun  unknown  quantity ;  but 
in  this  case  (as  he  properly  observed),  there  was  an  unknown 
quantity  of  X. 

The  opinion  of  Bob,  the  devil  (who  kept  dark  "  about  his 
having  X-ed  the  paragrab"),  did  not  meet  with  so  much  atten- 
tion as  I  think  it  deserved,  although  it  was  very  openly  and  very 
fearlessly  expressed.  He  said  that,  for  his  part,  he  had  no  doubt 
about  the  matter  at  all,  that  it  was  a  clear  case,  that  Mr.  Bullet- 
head  never  could  be  persvaded  fur  to  drink  like  other  folks,  but 
vas  continually  a-svigging  o'  that  ere  blessed  XXX  ale,  and,  as 
a  naiteral  consekvence,  it  just  puffed  him  up  savage,  and  made 
him  X  (cross)  in  the  X-treme.' 


DIDDLING 

CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF  THE  EXACT  SCIENCES. 


Hey,  diddle  diddle, 
The  cat  and  the  fiddle. 


SINCK  the  world  began  there  have  been  two  Jeremys.  The 
one  wrote  a  Jeremiad  about  usury,  and  was  called  Jeremy  Ben 
tliam.  He  has  been  much  admired  by  Mr.  John  Neal,  and  was 
a  great  man  in  a  small  way.  The  other  gave  name  to  the  most 
important  of  the  Exact  Sciences,  and  was  a  great  man  in  a  great 
way — I  may  say,  indeed,  in  the  very  greatest  of  ways. 

Diddling — or  the  abstract  idea  conveyed  by  the  verb  to  diddle 
— is  sufficiently  well  understood.  Yet  the  fact,  the  deed,  the  thing 
diddling,  is  somewhat  difficult  to  define.  We  may  get,  however, 
at  a  tolerably  distinct  conception  of  the  matter  in  hand,  by  de- 
fining— not  the  thing,  diddling,  in  itself — but  man,  as  an  animal 
that  diddles.  Had  Plato  but  hit  upon  this,  he  would  have  been 
spared  the  affront  of  the  picked  chicken. 

Very  pertinently  it  was  demanded  of  Plato,  why  a  picked 
chicken,  which  was  clearly  a  "  biped  without  feathers,"  was  not, 
according  to  his  own  definition,  a  man  ?  But  I  am  not  to  be 
bothered  by  any  similar  query.  Man  is  an  animal  that  diddles, 
and  thei'e  is  no  animal  that  diddles  but  man.  It  will  take  an 
entire  hen-coop  of  picked  chickens  to  get  over  that. 

What  constitutes  the  essence,  the  nare,  the  principle  of  did- 
dling is,  in  fact,  peculiar  to  the  class  of  creatures  that  wear  coats 
and  pantaloons.  A  crow  thieves  ;  a  fox  cheats ;  a  weasel  out- 
wits ;  a  man  diddles.  To  diddle  is  his  destiny.  "  Man  was 
made  to  mourn,"  says  the  poet.  But  not  so : — he  was  made  to 
diddle.  This  is  his  aim — his  object — his  end.  And  for  this  rea- 
son when  a  man's  diddled  we  say  he's  '•'done" 


368  DIDDLING  CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF 

Diddling,  rightly  considered,  is  a  compound,  of  which  the 
ingredients  are  minuteness,  interest,  perseverance,  ingenuity, 
audacity,  nonchalance,  originality,  impertinence,  and  grin. 

Minuteness: — Your  diddler  is  minute.  His  operations  are 
upon  a  small  scale.  His  business  is  retail,  for  cash,  or  approved 
paper  at  sight.  Should  be  ever  be  tempted  into  magnificent 
(••peculation,  he  then,  at  once,  loses  his  distinctive  features,  and 
Becomes  what  we  term  "  financier."  This  latter  word  conveys 
the  diddling  idea  in  every  respect  except  that  of  magnitude.  A 
diddler  may  thus  be  regarded  as  a  banker  in  petto — a  "  financial 
operation,"  as  a  diddle  at  Brobdignag.  The  one  is  to  the  other, 
as  Homer  to  "  Flaccus" — as  a  Mastodon  to  a  mouse — as  the  tail 
of  u  comet  to  that  of  a  pig. 

Interest : — Your  diddler  is  guided  by  self-interest.  He  scorns 
to  diddle  for  the  mere  sake  of  the  diddle.  He  has  an  object  in 
view — his  pocket — and  yours.  He  regards  always  the  main 
chance.  He  looks  to  Number  One.  Yon  are  Number  Two, 
and  must  look  to  yourself. 

Perseverance : — Your  diddler  perseveres.  He  is  not  readily 
discouraged.  Should  even  the  banks  break,  he  cares  nothing 
about  it.  He  steadily  pursues  his  end,  and 

Ut  canis  a  corio  nunquam  absterrebilur  undo, 

so  he  never  lets  go  of  his  game. 

Ingenuity: — Your  diddler  is  ingenious.  He  has  constructive- 
ness  large.  He  understands  plot.  He  invents  and  circumvents. 
Were  he  not  Alexander  he  would  be  Diogenes.  Were  he  not  a 
diddler,  he  would  be  a  maker  of  patent  rat-traps  or  an  angler 
for  trout. 

Audacity  : — Your  diddler  is  audacious. — He  is  a  bold  man. 
He  carries  the  war  into  Africa.  He  conquers  all  by  assault. 
He  would  not  fear  the  daggers  of  the  Frey  Herren.  With  a 
little  more  prudence  Dick  Turpin  would  have  made  a  good  did- 
dler ;  with  a  trifle  less  blarney,  Daniel  O'Connell ;  with  a  pound 
or  two  more  brains,  Charles  the  Twelfth. 

Nonchalance: — Your  diddler  is  nonchalant.  He  is  not  at  all 
nervous.  He  never  had  any  nerves.  He  is  never  seduced  into 
a  Hurry.  He  is  never  put  out — unless  put  out  of  doors.  He  is 


THE  EXACT  SCIENCES.  269 

cool — cool  as  a  cucumber.  He  is  calm — "calm  as  a  smile  from 
Lady  Bury."  He  is  easy — easy  as  an  old  glove,  or  the  dam- 
sels of  ancient  Baiye. 

OriyiiUility : — Your  diddler  is  original — conscientiously  so. 
His  thoughts  are  his  own.  He  would  scorn  to  employ  those  of 
another.  A  stale  trick  is  his  aversion.  He  would  return  a 
purse,  I  am  sure,  upon  discovering  that  he  had  obtained  it  by 
an  unoriginal  diddle. 

Impertinence: — Your  diddler  is  impertinent.  He  swaggers. 
He  sets  his  arms  a-kimbo.  lie  thrusts  his  hands  in  his  trowsers' 
pockets.  He  sneers  in  your  face.  He  treads  on  your  corns. 
He  eats  your  dinner,  he  dinks  your  wine,  he  borrows  your 
money,  he  pulls  your  nose,  he  kicks  your  poodle,  and  he  kisses 
your  wife. 

Grin: — Your  true  diddler  winds  up  all  with  a  grin.  But  this 
nobody  sees  but  himself.  He  grins  when  his  daily  work  is  done 
— when  his  allotted  labors  are  accomplished — at  night  in  his  own 
closet,  and  altogether  for  Us  own  private  entertainment.  He 
goes  home.  lie  locks  his  door.  He  divests  himself  of  his 
clothes.  He  puts  out  his  candle.  He  gets  into  bed.  He  places 
his  head  upon  the  pillow.  All  this  done,  and  your  diddler  grins. 
This  is  no  hypothesis.  It  is  a  matter  of  course.  I  reason 
a  priori,  and  a  diddle  would  be  no  diddle  without  a  grin. 

The  origin  of  the  diddle  is  referrible  to  the  infancy  of  the 
Human  Race.  Perhaps  the  first  diddler  was  Adam.  At  all 
events,  we  can  trace  the  science  back  to  a  very  remote  period 
of  antiquity.  The  moderns,  however,  have  brought  it  to  a  per- 
fection never  dreamed  of  by  our  thick-headed  progenitors. 
Without  pausing  to  speak  of  the  "  old  saws,"  therefore,  I  shall 
content  myself  with  a  compendious  account  of  some  ot%  the  more 
"  modern  instances." 

A  very  good  diddle  is  this.  A  housekeeper  in  want  of  a  sofa, 
for  instance,  is  seen  to  go  in  and  out  of  several  cabinet,  ware- 
houses. At  length  she  arrives  at  one  offering  an  excellent  va- 
riety. She  is  accosted,  and  invited  to  enter,  by  a  polite  and 
voluble  individual  at  the  door.  She  finds  a  sofa  well  adapted 
to  her  views,  and,  upon  inquiring  the  price,  is  surprised  and  de- 
lighted to  hear  a  sum  named  at  least  twenty  per  cent,  lower 


270  DIDDLING  CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF 

than  her  expectations.  She  hastens  to  make  the  purchase,  gets  3 
bill  and  receipt,  leaves  her  address,  with  a  request  that  the  arti- 
cle be  sent  home  as  speedily  as  possible,  and  retires  amid  a  pro- 
fusion of  bows  from  the  shop-keeper.  The  night  arrives  and 
no  sofa.  The  next  day  passes,  and  still  none.  A  servant  is 
sent  to  make  inquiry  about  the  delay.  The  whole  transaction 
is  denied.  No  sofa  has  been  sold — no  money  received — except 
by  the  diddler,  who  played  shop-keeper  for  the  nonce. 

Our  cabinet  warehouses  are  left  entirely  unattended,  and  thus 
afford  every  facility  for  a  trick  of  this  kind.  Visitors  enter, 
look  at  furniture,  and  depart  unheeded  and  unseen.  Should  any 
one  wish  to  purchase,  or  to  inquire  the  price  of  an  article,  a  bell 
is  at  hand,  and  this  is  considered  amply  sufficient. 

Again,  quite  a  respectable  diddle  is  this.  A  well-dressed 
individual  enters  a  shop;  makes  a  purchase  to  the  value  of  a 
dollar ;  finds,  much  to  his  vexation,  that  he  has  left  his  pocket- 
book  in  another  coat  pocket ;  and  so  says  to  the  shop-keeper— 

"  My  dear  sir,  never  mind ! — just  oblige  me,  will  you,  by 
sending  the  bundle  home  ?  But  stay !  I  really  believe  that  I 
have  nothing  less  than  a  five  dollar  bill,  even  there.  However, 
you  can  send  four  dollars  in  change  with  the  bundle,  you  know." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  replies  the  shop-keeper,  who  entertains,  at 
once,  a  lofty  opinion  of  the  high-mindedness  of  his  customer. 
"  I  know  fellows,"  he  says  to  himself,  "  who  would  just  have 
put  the  goods  under  their  arm,  and  walked  off  with  a  promise  to 
call  and  pay  the  dollar  as  they  came  by  in  the  afternoon." 

A  boy  is  sent  with  the  parcel  and  change.  On  the  route,  quite 
accidentally,  he  is  met  by  the  purchaser,  who  exclaims : 

"  Ah !  this  is  my  bundle,  I  see — I  thought  you  had  been 
bnme  with  it,  long  ago.  Well,  go  on  !  My  wife,  Mrs.  Trotter, 
will  give  you  the  five  dollars — I  left  instructions  with  her  to 
that  effect.  The  change  you  might  as  well  give  to  me — I  shall 
want  some  silver  for  the  Post  Office.  Very  good !  One,  two, 
is  this  a  good  quarter  ? — three,  four — quite  right !  Say  to  Mrs. 
Trotter  that  you  met  me,  and  be  sure  now  and  do  not  loiter  on 
the  way." 

The  boy  does't -loiter  at  all — but  he  is  a  very  long  time  in  get- 
ting back  from  his  errand — for  no  lady  of  the  precise  name  of 


THE  EXACT  SCIENCES.  271 

Mrs.  Trotter  is  to  be  discovered.  He  consoles  himself,  however, 
that  he  has  not  been  such  a  fool  as  to  leave  the  goods  without 
the  money,  and  re-entering  his  shop  \\ith  a  self-satisfied  air, 
feels  sensibly  hurt  and  indignant  when  his  master  asks  him  what 
has  become  of  the  change. 

A  very  simple  diddle,  indeed,  is  this.  The  captain  of  a  ship 
which  is  about  to  sail,  is  presented  by  an  official  looking  person, 
with  an  unusually  moderate  bill  of  city  charges.  Glad  to  get  off 
so  easily,  and  confused  by  a  hundred  duties  pressing  upon  him 
all  at  once,  he  discharges  the  claim  forthwith.  In  about  fifteen 
minutes,  another  and  less  reasonable  bill  is  handed  him  by  one 
who  soon  makes  it  evident  that  the  first  collector  was  a  diddler, 
and  the  original  collection  a  diddle. 

And  here,  too,  is  a  somewhat  similar  thing.  A  steamboat  is 
casting  loose  from  the  wharf.  A  traveller,  portmanteau  in  hand, 
is  discovered  running  towards  the  wharf  at  full  speed.  Suddenly, 
he  makes  a  dead  halt,  stoops,  and  picks  up  something  from  the 
ground  in  a  very  agitated  manner.  It  is  a  pocket-book,  and — 
"  Has  any  gentleman  lost  a  pocket-book  ?"  he  cries.  No  one  can 
say  that  he  has  exactly  lost  a  pocket-book  ;  but  a  great  excite- 
ment ensues,  when  the  treasure  trove  is  found  to  be  of  value 
The  boat  however,  must  not  be  detained. 

"  Time  and  tide  wait  for  no  man."  says  the  captain.  » 

"  For  God's  sake,  stay  only  a  few  minutes,"  says  the  finder  of 
the  book — "  the  true  claimant  will  presently  appear." 

"  Can't  wait !"  replies  the  man  in  authority ;  "  cast  off  there,  d'ye 
hear?" 

"  What  am  I  do  ?"  asks  the  finder,  in  great  tribulation.  "  I 
am  about  to  leave  the  country  for  some  years,  and  I  cannot  con- 
scientiously retain  this  large  amount  in  my  possession.  I  beg 
your  pardon,  sir,"  [here  he  addreses  a  gentleman  on  shore,]  "  but 
you  have  the  air  of  an  honest  man.  Will  you  confer  upon  me 
the  favor  of  taking  charge  of  this  pocket-book — I  know  I  can 
trust  you — and  of  advertising  it  ?  The  notes,  you  see,  amount 
to  a  very  considerable  sum.  The  owner  will,  no  doubt,  insist 
upon  rewarding  you  for  your  trouble — " 

"  Me! — no,  you! — it  was  you  who  found  the  book." 

"  Well,  if  you  must  have  it  so — /  will  take  a  nmall  reward— 


272  DIDDLING  CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF 

just  to  satisfy  your  scruples.  Let  me  see — why  these  notes  are 
all  hundreds — bless  my  soul!  a  hundred  is  too  much  to  take— 
fifty  would  be  quite  enough,  I  am  sure — " 

"  Cast  off  there  !"  says  the  captain. 

"  But  then  I  have  no  change  for  a  hundred,  and  upon  the 
whole,  you  had  better — " 

"  Cast  off  there  !"  says  the  captain. 

"  Never  mind  !"  cries  the  gentlemen  on  shore,  who  has  been 
examining  his  own  pocket-book  for  the  last  minute  or  so — "  never 
mind  !  /can  fix  it — here  is  a  fifty  on  the  Bank  of  North  Amei- 
ica — throw  me  the  book." 

And  the  over-conscientious  finder  takes  'the  fifty  with  marked 
reluctance,  and  throws  the  gentleman  the  book,  as  desired,  while 
the  steamboat  fumes  and  fizzes  on  her  way.  In  about  half  an 
hour  after  her  departure,  the  "  large  amount"  is  seen  to  be  a 
"  counterfeit  presentment,"  and  the  whole  thing  a  capital  diddle. 

A  bold  diddle  is  this.  A  camp-meeting,  or  something  similar, 
is  to  be  held  at  a  certain  spot  which  is  accessible  only  by  means 
of  a  free  bridge.  A  diddler  stations  himself  upon  this  bridge,  re- 
spectfully informs  all  passers  by  of  the  new  county  law,  whick 
establishes  a  toll  of  one  cent  for  foot  passengers,  two  for  horses 
and  donkeys,  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  Some  grumble  but  all 
submit,  and  the  diddler  goes  home  a  wealthier  man  by  some  fifty 
or  sixty  dollars  well  earned.  This  taking  a  toll  from  a  great 
crowd  of  people  is  an  excessively  troublesome  thing. 

A  neat  diddle  is  this.  A  friend  holds  one  of  the  diddler's 
promises  to  pay,  filled  up  and  signed  in  due  form,  upon  the  ordi- 
nary blanks  printed  in  red  ink.  The  diddler  purchases  one  or 
two  dozen  of  these  blanks,  and  every  day  dips  one  of  them  in  his 
soup,  makes  his  dog  jump  for  it,  and  finally  gives  it  to  him  as  a 
bonne  bouche.  The  note  arriving  at  maturity,  the  diddler,  with 
the  diddler's  dog,  calls  upon  the  friend,  and  the  promise  to  pay  is 
made  the  topic  of  discussion.  The  friend  produces  it  from  his 
fscritoire,  and  is  in  the  act  of  reaching  it  to  the  diddler,  when  up 
jumps  the  diddler's  dog  and  devours  it  forthwith.  The  diddler  is 
not  only  surprised  but  vexed  and  incensed  at  the  absurd  behavior 
of  his  dog,  and  expresses  his  entire  readiness  to  cancel  the  obli- 


THE  EXACT  SCIENCES  273 

pation  at  any  moment  when  the  evidence  of  the  obligation  shall 
he  forthcoming. 

A  very  minute  diddle  is  this.  A  lady  is  insulted  in  the  street 
by  a  diddler's  accomplice.  The  diddler  himself  flies  to  her 
assistance,  and,  giving  his  friend  a  comfortable  thrashing,  insists 
upon  attending  the  lady  to  her  own  door.  He  bows,  with  his 
hand  upon  his  heart,  and  most  respectfully  bids  her  adieu.  She 
entreats  him,  as  her  deliverer,  to  walk  in  and  be  introduced  to 
her  big  brother  and  her  papa.  With  a  sigh,  he  declines  to  do  s<* 
"Is  there  no  way,  then,  sir,"  she  murmurs,  "in  which  I  may  be 
permitted  to  testify  my  gratitude  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  madam,  there  is.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
lend  me  a  couple  of  shillings  ?" 

In  the  first  excitement  of  the  moment  the  lady  decides  upon 
fainting  outright.  Upon  second  thought,  however,  she  opens  her 
purse-strings  and  delivers  the  specie.  Now  this,  I  say,  is  a  did- 
dle minute — for  one  entire  moiety  of  the  sum  borrowed  has  to 
be  paid  to  the  gentleman  who  had  the  trouble  of  performing  the 
insult,  and  who  had  then  to  stand  still  and  be  thrashed  for  per- 
forming it. 

Rather  a  small,  but  still  a  scientific  diddle  is  this.  The  diddler 
approaches  the  bar  of  a  tavern,  and  demands  a  couple  of  twists 
of  tobacco.  These  are  handed  to  him,  when,  having  slightly 
examined  them,  he  says : 

"  1  don't  much  like  this  tobacco.  Here,  take  it  back,  and  give 
me  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water  in  its  place." 

The  brandy  and  water  is  furnished  and  imbibed,  .and  the  did 
dler  makes  his  way  to  the  door.  But  the  voice  of  the  tavern 
keeper  arrests  him. 

"  I  believe,  sir,  you  have  forgotten  to  pay  for  your  brandy  and 
water." 

"  Pay  for  my  brandy  and  water ! — didn't  I  give  you  the  tobac« 
to  for  the  brandy  and  water  ?  What  more  would  you  have  ?" 

"  But  sir,  if  you  please,  I  don't  remember  that  you  paid  for 
the  tobacco." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  scoundrel  ? — Didn't  I  give 
you  back  your  tobacco  ?  Isn't  that  your  tobacco  lying  there  ?  Do 
you  expect  me  to  pay  for  what  I  did  not  take  ?" 


274  DIDDLING  CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF 

"  But,  sir,"  says  the  publican,  now  rather  at  &  loss  what  to  say, 
«  but  sir—" 

"  But  me  no  buts,  sir,"  interrupts  the  diddler,  apparently  in 
very  high  dudgeon,  and  slamming  the  door  after  him,  as  he  makes 
his  escape. — "  But  me  no  buts,  sir,  and  none  of  your  tricks  upon 
travellers." 

Here  again  is  a  very  clever  diddle,  of  which  the  simplicity  is 
not  its  least  recommendation.  A  purse,  or  pocket-book,  being 
really  lost,  the  loser  inserts  in  one  of  the  daily  papers  of  a  large 
city  a  fully  descriptive  advertisement. 

Whereupon  our  diddler  copies  the  facts  of  this  advertisement, 
with  a  change  of  heading,  of  general  phraseology,  and  address. 
The  original,  for  instance,  is  long,  and  verbose,  is  headed  ''A 
Pocket-Book  Lost !"  and  requires  the  treasure,  when  found,  to  be 
left  at  No.  1  Tom  street.  The  copy  is  brief,  and  being  headed 
with  "  Lost"  only,  indicates  No.  2  Dick,  or  No.  3  Harry  street,  as 
the  locality  at  which  the  owner  may  be  seen.  Moreover,  it  is 
inserted  in  at  least  five  or  six  of  the  daily  papers  of  the  day, 
while  in  point  of  time,  it  makes  its  appearance  only  a  few  hours 
after  the  original.  Should  it  be  read  by  the  loser  of  the  purse, 
he  would  hardly  suspect  it  to  have  any  reference  to  his  own  mis- 
fortune. But,  of  course,  the  chances  are  five  or  six  to  one,  that 
the  finder  will  repair  to  the  address  given  by  the  diddler,  rather 
than  to  that  pointed  out  by  the  rightful  proprietor.  The  former 
pays  tbs  reward,  pockets  the  treasure  and  decamps. 

Quite  an  analogous  diddle  is  this.  A  lady  of  ton  has  dropped, 
somewhere  in  the  street,  a  diamond  ring  of  very  unusual  value. 
B  or  its  recovery,  she  offers  some  forty  or  fifty  dollai-s  reward — 
giving,  in  her  advertisement,  a  very  minute  description  of  the 
gem,  and  of  its  settings,  and  declaring  that,  upon  its  restoration 
to  No.  so  and  so,  in  such  and  such  Avenue,  the  reward  will  be 
paid  instanter,  without  a  single  question  being  asked.  During 
the  lady's  absence  from  home,  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  a  ring  is 
heard  at  the  door  of  No.  so  and  so,  in  such  and  such  Avenue ;  a 
servant  appears  ;  the  lady  of  the  house  is  asked  for  and  is  de- 
clared to  be  out,  at  which  astounding  information,  the  visitor 
expresses  the  most  poignant  regret.  His  business  is  of  import- 
ance and  concerns  the  lady  herself.  In  fact,  he  had  the  good 


THE  EXACT   SCIENCES.  275 

fortune  to  find  her  diamond  ring.  But,  perhaps  it  would  be  as 
well  that  lie  should  call  again.  "  By  no  means  !"  says  the  ser- 
vant ;  and  "  By  no  means !"  says  the  lady's  sister  and  the  lady's 
sister-in-law,  who  are  summoned  forthwith.  The  ring  is  clamor- 
ously identified,  the  reward  is  paid,  and  the  finder  nearly  thrust 
out  of  doors.  The  lady  returns,  and  expresses  some  little 
dissatisfaction  with  her  sister  and  sister-in-law,  because  they 
happen  to  have  paid  forty  or  fifty  dollars  for  a  fac-simile  of  her 
diamond  ring — a  fac-simile  made  out  of  real  pinchbeck  and 
unquestionable  paste. 

But  as  there  is  really  no  end  to  diddling,  so  there  would  be 
none  to  this  essay,  were  I  even  to  hint  at  half  the  variations,  or 
inflections,  of  which  this  science  is  susceptible.  I  must  bring 
this  paper,  perforce,  to  a  conclusion,  and  this  I  cannot  do  better 
than  by  a  summary  notice  of  a  very  decent,  but  rather  elaborate 
diddle,  of  which  our  own  city  was  made  the  theatre,  not  very  long 
ago,  and  which  was  subsequently  repeated  with  success,  in  other 
still  more  verdant  localities  of  the  Union.  A  middle-aged  gen- 
tleman arrives  in  town  from  parts  unknown.  He  is  remarkably 
precise,  cautious,  staid,  and  deliberate  in  his  demeanor.  His 
dress  is  scrupulously  neat,  but  plain,  unostentatious.  He  wears 
a  white  cravat,  an  ample  waistcoat,  made  with  an  eye  to  comfort 
alone ;  thick-soled  cosy -looking  shoes,  and  pantaloons  without 
straps.  He  has  the  whole  air,  in  fact,  of  your  well-to-do,  sober- 
sided,  exact,  and  respectable  ''  man  of  business,"  par  excellence — 
one  of  the  stern  and  outwardly  hard,  internally  soft,  sort  of 
people  that  we  see  in  the  crack  high  comedies — fellows  whose 
•words  are  so  many  bonds, 'and  who  are  noted  for  giving  away 
guineas,  in  charity,  with  the  one  hand,  while,  in  the  way  of  mere 
bargain,  they  exact  the  uttermost  fraction  of  a  farthing  with  the 
other. 

He  makes  much  ado  before  Jie  can  get  suited  with  a  boarding- 
house.  He  dislikes  children.  He  has  been  accustomed  to  quiet. 
His  habits  are  methodical — and  then  he  would  prefer  getting  into 
a  private  and  respectable  small  family,  piously  inclined.  Terms, 
however,  are  no  object — only  he  must  insist  upon  settling  his  bill 
on  the  first  of  every  month,  (it  is  now  the  second)  and  begs  his 
landlady,  when  he  finally  obtains  one  to  his  mind,  not  on  any 


276  DIDDLING  CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF 

account  to  forget  his  instructions  upon  this  point — but  to  send  in 
a  bill,  and  receipt,  precisely  at  ten  o'clock,  on  the  first  day  of 
every  month,  and  under  no  circumstances  to  put  it  off  to  the 
second. 

These  arrangements  made,  our  man  of  business  rents  an  office 
in  a  reputable  rather  than  in  a  fashionable  quarter  of  the  town. 
There  is  nothing  he  more  despises  than  pretence.  "  Where  there 
is  much  show,"  he  says,  "  there  is  seldom  anything  very  solid 
behind" — an  observation  which  so  profoundly  impresses  his  land- 
lady's fancy,  that  she  makes  a  pencil  memorandum  of  it  forthwith, 
in  her  great  family  Bible,  on  the  broad  margin  of  the  Proverbs 
of  Solomon. 

The  next  step  is  to  advertise,  after  some  such  fashion  as  this, 
in  the  principal  business  sixpennies  of  this  city — the  pennies  are 
eschewed  as  not  "  respectable" — and  as  demanding  payment  for  all 
advertisements  in  advance.  Our  man  of  business  holds  it  as  a 
point  of  his  faith  that  work  should  never  be  paid  for  until  done. 

WANTED. — The  advertisers,  being  about  to  commence  exten- 
sive business  operations  in  this  city,  will  require  the  services  of 
three  or  four  intelligent  and  competent  clerks,  to  whom  a  liberal 
salary  will  be  paid.  The  very  best  recommendations,  not  so 
much  for  capacity,  as  for  integrity,  will  be  expected.  Indeed,  as 
the  duties  to  be  performed,  involve  high  responsibilities,  and 
large  amounts  of  money  must  necessarily  pass  through  the  hands 
of  those  engaged,  it  is  deemed  advisable  to  demand  a  deposit  of 
.fifty  dollars  from  each  clerk  employed.  No  person  need  apply, 
therefore,  who  is  not  prepared  to  leave  this  sum  in  the  possession 
of  the  advertisers,  and  who  sannot  furnish  the  most  satisfactory 
testimonials  of  morality.  Young  gentlemen  piously  inclined  will 
be  preferred.  Application  should  be  made  between  the  hours  of 
ten  and  eleven,  A.  M.,  and  four  and  five,  P.  M.,  of  Messrs. 

BOGS,  HOGS,  LOGS,  FROGS,  &  Co. 
No.  110  Dog  Street. 

By  the  thirty-first  day  of  the  month,  this  advertisement  has 
brought  to  the  office  of  Messrs.  Bogs,  Hogs,  Logs,  Frogs  and 
Company,  some  fifteen  ->r  twenty  young  gentlemen  piously  in- 


THE  EXACT  SCIENCES.  21!? 

clined.  But  our  man  of  business  is  in  no  huny  to  conclude  a 
contract  with  any — no  man  of  business  is  ever  precipitate — and 
it  is  not  until  the  most  rigid  catechism  in  respect  to  the  piety  of 
each  young  gentleman's  inclination,  that  his  services  are  engaged 
and  his  fifty  dollars  receipted  for,  just  by  way  of  proper  precaution, 
on  the  part  of  the  respectable  firm  of  Bogs,  Hogs,  Logs,  Frogs, 
and  Company.  On  the  morning  of  the  first  day  of  the  uext 
month,  the  landlady  does  not  present  her  bill,  according  to  pro- 
mise— a  piece  of  neglect  for  which  the  comfortable  head  of  the 
house  ending  in  ogs,  would  no  doubt  have  eluded  her  severely, 
could  he  have  been  prevailed  upon  to  remain  in  town  a  day  or 
two  for  that  purpose. 

As  it  is,  the  constables  have  had  a  sad  time  of  it,  running 
hither  and  thither,  and  all  they  can  do  is  to  declare  the  man  of 
business  most  emphatically,  a  "  hen  knee  high" — by  which  some 
persons  imagine  them  to  imply  that,  in  fact,  he  is  n.  e.  i. — by 
which  again  the  very  classical  phrase  non  est  inventus,  is  supposed 
to  be  understood.  In  the  meantime  the  young  gentlemen,  one 
and  all,  are  somewhat  less  piously  inclined  than  before,  while  the 
landlady  purchases  a  shilling's  worth  of  the  best  Indian  rubber, 
and  very  carefully  obliterates  the  pencil  memorandum  that  some 
fool  has  made  in  her  great  family  Bible,  on  the  broad  margin  of 
&e  Proverbs  of  Solomon. 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD. 

AN     EXTRAVAGANZA. 

IT  was  a  chilly  November  afternoon.  I  had  just  consummat- 
ed an  unusually  hearty  dinner,  of  which  the  dyspeptic  trufft 
formed  not  the  least  important  item,  and  was  sitting  alone  in  the 
dining-room,  with  my  feet  upon  the  fender,  and  at  my  elbow  a 
email  table  which  I  had  rolled  up  to  the  fire,  and  upon  which 
were  some  apologies  for  dessert,  with  some  miscellaneous  bottles 
of  wine,  spirit  and  liqueur.  In  the  morning  I  had  been  reading 
Glover's  "  Leonidas,"  Wilkie's  "  Epigoniad,"  Lamartine's  "  Pil- 
grimage," Barlow's  "  Columbiad,"  Tuckerman's  "  Sicily,"  and 
Griswold's  "  Curiosities  j"  I  am  willing  to  confess,  therefore,  that 
I  now  felt  a  little  stupid.  I  made  effort  to  arouse  myself  by  aid 
of  frequent  Lafitte,  and,  all  failing,  I  betook  myself  to  a  stray 
newspaper  in  despair.  Having  carefully  perused  the  column  of 
"  houses  to  let,"  and  the  column  of  "  dogs  lost,"  and  then  the  two, 
columns  of  "  wives  and  apprentices  runaway,"  I  attacked  with 
great  resolution  the  editorial  matter,  and,  reading  it  from  begin- 
ning to  end  without  understanding  a  syllable,  conceived  the  pos- 
sibility of  its  being  Chinese,  and  so  re-read  it  from  the  end  to 
the  beginning,  but  with  no  more  satisfactory  result.  I  was  about 
throwing  away,  in  disgust. 

This  folio  of  four  pages,  happy  work 
Which  not  even  critics  criticise, 

when  I  felt  my  attention  somewhat  aroused  by  the  paragraph 
which  follows : 

"  The  avenues  to  death  are  numerous  and  strange.  A  London 
paper  mentions  the  decease  of  a  person  from  a  singular  cause. 
He  was  playing  at  '  puff  the  dart,'  which  is  played  with  a  long 
ueedle  inserted  in  some  worsted,  and  blown  at  a  target  through 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD.  279 

a  tin  tube.  He  placed  the  needle  at  the  wrong  end  ol  the  tube, 
and  drawing  his  breath  strongly  to  puff  the  dart  forward  with 
force,  drew  the  needle  into  his  throat.  It  entered  the  lungs,  and 
in  a  few  days  killed  him." 

Upon  seeing  this  I  fell  into  a  great  rage,  without  exactly 
knowing  why.  "  This  thing,"  I  exclaimed,  "  is  a  contemptible 
falsehood — a  poor  hoax — the  lees  of  the  invention  of  some  pitia- 
ble penny-a-liner — of  some  wretched  concoctor  of  accidents  in 
Cocaigne.  These  fellows,  knowing  the  extravagant  gullibility 
of  the  age,  set  their  wits  to  work  in  the  imagination  of  improba- 
ble possibilities — of  odd  accidents,  as  they  term  them ;  but  to  a 
I'eflecting  intellect  (like  mine,"  I  added,  in  parenthesis,  putting 
my  forefinger  unconsciously  to  the  side  of  my  nose,)  "to  a  con- 
templative understanding  such  as  I  myself  possess,  it  seems  evi- 
dent at  once  that  the  marvellous  increase  of  late  in  these  '  odd 
accidents'  is  by  far  the  oddest  accident  of  all.  For  my  own 
part,  I  intend  to  believe  nothing  henceforward  that  has  anything 
of  the  'singular'  about  it/' 

"  Mein  Gott,  den,  vat  a  vool  you  bees  for  dat !  '  replied  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  voices  I  ever  heard.  At  first  I  took  it 
for  a  rumbling  in  my  ears — such  as  a  man  sometimes  experien- 
ces when  getting  very  drunk — but,  upon  second  thought,  I  con- 
sidered the  sound  as  more  nearly  resembling  that  which  proceeds 
from  an  empty  barrel  beaten  with  a  big  stick  ;  and,  in  fact,  this 
I  should  have  concluded  it  to  be,  but  for  the  articulation  of  the 
syllables  and  words.  I  am  by  no  means  naturally  nervous,  and 
the  very  few  glasses  of  Lafitte  which  I  had  sipped  served  to 
embolden  me  a  little,  so  that  I  felt  nol.iing  of  trepidation,  but 
merely  uplifted  my  eyes  with  a  leisurely  movement,  and  looked 
carefully  around  the  room  for  the  intruder.  I  could  not,  how- 
ever, perceive  any  one  at  all. 

"Humph!"  resumed  the  voice,  as  I  continued  my  survey, 
"  you  mus  pe  so  dronk  as  de  pig,  den,  for  not  zee  me  as  I  zit 
here  at  your  zide." 

Hereupon  I  bethought  me  of  looking  immediately  before  my 
nose,  and  there,  sure  enough,  confronting  me  at  the  table  sat  a 
personage  nondescript,  although  not  altogether  indescribable. 
His  body  was  a  wine-pipe,  or  a  rum-puncheon,  or  something  of 


280  THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD. 

that  character,  and  had  a  truly  Falstaffian  air.  In  its  nethci 
extremity  were  inserted  two  kegs,  which  seemed  to  answer  all 
the  purposes  of  legs.  For  arms  there  dangled  from  the  upper 
portion  of  the  carcass  two  tolerably  long  bottles,  with  the  necks 
outward  for  hands.  All  the  head  that  I  saw  the  monster  possessed 
of  was  one  of  those  Hessian  canteens  which  resemble  a  large 
snuff-box  with  a  hole  in  the  middle  of  the  lid.  This  canteen 
(with  a  funnel  on  its  top,  like  a  cavalier  cap  slouched  over  the 
eyesj  was  set  on  edge  upon  the  puncheon,  with  the  hole  toward 
myself;  and  through  this  hole,  which  seemed  puckered  up  like 
the  mouth  of  a  very  precise  old  maid,  the  creature  was  emitting 
certain  rumbling  and  grumbling  noises  which  he  evidently  in- 
tended for  intelligible  talk. 

"  I  zay,:'  said  he,  "  you  mos  pe  dronk  as  de  pig,  vor  zit  dare 
and  not  zee  me  zit  ere ;  and  I  zay,  doo,  you  mos  pe  pigger  vool 
as  de  goose,  vor  to  dispelief  vat  iz  print  in  de  print.  'Tiz  de 
troof — dat  it  iz — eberry  vord  ob  it." 

"Who  are  you,  pray?"  said  I,  with  much  dignity,  although 
somewhat  puzzled  ;  "  how  did  you  get  here  ?  and  what  is  it  you 
Are  talking  about  ?" 

"  As  vor  ow  I  com'd  ere,"  replied  the  figure,  "  dat  iz  none  of 
your  pizziness  ;  and  as  vor  vat  I  be  talking  apout,  I  be  talk  apout 
vat  I  tink  proper  ;  and  as  vor  who  I  be,  vy  dat  is  de  very  ting  I 
com'd  here  for  to  let  you  zee  for  yourzelf." 

"  You  are  a  drunken  vagabond,"  said  I,  "  and  I  shall  ring  the 
bell  and  order  my  footman  to  kick  you  into  the  street." 

"He!  he!  he!"  said  the  fellow,  "hu!  hu!  hu!  dat  you  can't 
do." 

"  Can't  do  !"  said  I,  "  what  do  you  mean  ? — I  can't  do  what  ?" 

"  Ring  de  pell ;"  he  replied,  attempting  a  grin  with  his  little 
villanous  mouth. 

Upon  this  I  made  an  effort  to  get  up,  in  order  to  put  my  threat 
into  execution  ;  but  the  ruffian  just  reached  across  the  table  very 
deliberately,  and  hitting  me  a  tap  on  the  forehead  with  the  neck 
of  one  of  the  long  bottles,  knocked  me  back  into  the  arm-chair 
from  which  I  had  half  arisen.  I  was  utterly  astounded ;  and, 
for  a  moment,  was  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  In  the  meantime, 
he  continued  his  talk. 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD.  281 

"  YO:J  zee,"  said  he,  "  it  iz  te  bess  vor  zit  still ;  and  now  you 
shall  know  who  I  pe.  Look  at  me  !  zee !  I  am  te  Angel  ov  te 
Odd." 

"  And  odd  enough,  too,"  I  ventured  to  reply ;  "  but  I  was 
always  under  the  impression  that  an  angel  had  wings." 

"  Te  wing ! "  he  cried,  highly  incensed,  "  vat  I  pe  do  mit  te 
wing?  Mein  Gott!  do  you  take  me  vor  a  shicken?" 

"  No — oh  no  ! "  I  replied,  much  alarmed,  "  you  are  no  chicken 
— certainly  not." 

"  Well,  den,  zit  still  and  pehabe  yourself,  or  I'll  rap  you  again 
mid  me  vist.  It  iz  te  shicken  ab  te  wing,  und  te  owl  ab  te  wing, 
und  te  imp  ab  te  wing,  und  te  head-teuffel  ab  te  wing.  Te  angel 
ab  not  te  wing,  and  I  am  te  Angel  ov  te  Odd" 

"  And  your  business  with  me  at  present  is — is" — 

"My  pizzness!"  ejaculated  the  thing,  ''-vy  vat  a  low  bred 
buppy  you  mos  pe  vor  to  ask  a  gentleman  und  an  angel  apout 
his  pizziness !" 

This  language  was  rather  more  than  I  could  bear,  even,  from 
an  angel ;  so,  plucking  up  courage,  I  seized  a  salt-cellar  which 
lay  within  reach,  and  hurled  it  at  the  head  of  the  intruder. 
Either  he  dodged,  however,  or  my  aim  was  inaccurate  ;  for  all  I 
accomplished  was  the  demolition  of  the  crystal  which  protected 
the  dial  of  the  clock  upon  the  mantel-piece.  As  for  the  Angel, 
he  evinced  his  sense  of  my  assault  by  giving  me  two  or  three 
hard  consecutive  raps  upon  the  forehead  as  before.  These  reduc- 
ed me  at  once  to  submission,  and  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  confess 
that  either  through  pain  or  vexation,  there  came  a  few  tears  into 
my  eyes. 

"  Mein  Gott ! "  said  the  Angel  of  the  Odd,  apparently  much 
softened  at  my  distress ;  "  mein  Gott,  te  man  is  eder  ferry  dronk 
or  ferry  zorry.  You  mos  not  trink  it  so  strong — you  mos  put  te 
water  in  te  wine.  Here,  trink  dis,  like  a  goot  veller,  und  don't 
gry  now — don't ! " 

Hereupon  the  Angel  of  the  Odd  replenished  my  goblet  (which 
was  about  a  third  full  of  Port)  with  a  colorless  fluid  that  he 
poured  from  one  of  his  hand  bottles.  I  observed  that  these 
bottles  had  labels  about  their  necks,  and  that  these  labels  were 
inscribed  "  Kir^chenwasser-" 


282  THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD. 

The  considerate  kindness  of  the  Angel  mollified  me  in  no  little 
measure ;  and,  aided  by  the  water  with  which  he  diluted  my 
Port  more  than  once,  I  at  length  regained  sufficient  temper  to 
listen  to  his  very  extraordinary  discourse.  I  cannot  pretend  to 
recount  all  that  he  told  me.  but  I  gleaned  from  what  he  said  that 
he  was  the  genius  who  presided  over  the  contretemps  of  mankind, 
and  whose  business  it  was  to  bring  about  the  odd  accidents  which 
are  continually  astonishing  the  skeptic.  Once  or  twice,  upon  my 
venturing  to  express  my  total  incredulity  in  respect  to  his  pre- 
tensions, he  grew  very  angry  indeed,  so  that  at  length  I  consider- 
ed it  the  wiser  policy  to  say  nothing  at  all,  and  let  him  have  his 
own  way.  He  talked  on,  therefore,  at  gre^.t  length,  while  I 
merely  leaned  back  in  my  chair  with  my  eyes  shut,  and  amused 
myself  with  munching  raisins  and  filliping  the  stems  about  the 
room.  But,  by-and-by,  the  Angel  suddenly  construed  this  beha- 
vior of  mine  into  contempt.  He  arose  in  a  terrible  passion, 
slouched  his  funnel  down  over  his  eyes,  swore  a  vast  oath,  utter- 
ed a  threat  of  some  character  which  I  did  not  precisely  compre- 
hend, and  finally  made  me  a  low  bow  and  departed,  wishing  me, 
in  the  language  the  archbishop  in  Gil-Bias,  "  beaucuup  de  bon- 
heur  et  un  pen  plus  de  bon  sens" 

His  departure  afforded  me  relief.  The  very  few  glasses  of 
Lafitte  that  I  had  sipped  had  the  effect  of  rendering  me  drowsy, 
and  I  felt  inclined  to  take  a  nap  of  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes,  as  is  my  custom  after  dinner.  At  six  I  had  an  appoint- 
ment of  consequence,  which  it  was  quite  indispensable  that  I 
should  keep.  The  policy  of  insurance  for  my  dwelling  house 
had  expired  the  day  before ;  and,  some  dispute  having  arisen,  it 
was  agreed  that,  at  six,  I  should  meet  the  board  of  directors  of  the 
company  and  settle  the  terms  of  a  renewal.  Glancing  upward 
at  the  clock  on  the  mantel-piece,  (for  I  felt  too  drowsy  to  take 
out  my  watch),  I  had  the  pleasure  to  find  that  I  had  still  twenty- 
five  minutes  to  spare.  It  was  half  past  five ;  I  could  easily 
walk  to  the  insurance  office  in  five  minutes ;  and  my  usual 
siestas  had  never  been  known  to  exceed  five  and  twenty.  I  felt 
sufficiently  safe,  therefore,  and  composed  myself  to  my  slumbers 
forthwith. 

Having  completed  them  to  my  satisfaction,  I  again  looked 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD.  283 

toward  the  time-piece  and  was  half  inclined  to  believe  in  the 
possibility  of  odd  accidents  when  I  found  that,  instead  of  my 
ordinary  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  I  had  been  dozing  only  thiee  ; 
for  it  still  wanted  seven  and  twenty  of  the  appointed  hour.  I 
betook  myself  again  to  my  nap,  and  at  length  a  second  time 
awoke,  when,  to  my  utter  amazement,  it  still  wanted  twenty- 
seven  minutes  of  six.  I  jumped  up  to  examine  the  clock,  and 
found  that  it  had  ceased  running.  My  watch  informed  me  that 
it  was  half  past  seven ;  and,  of  course,  having  slept  two  hours, 
I  was  too  late  for  my  appointment.  "  It  will  make  no  difference," 
I  said :  "  I  can  call  at  the  office  in  the  morning  and  apologize ; 
in  the  meantime  what  can  be  the  matter  with  the  clock  ?"  Upon 
examining  it  I  discovered  that  one  of  the  raisin  stems  which  I 
been  filliping  about  the  room  during  the  discourse  of  the  Angel 
of  the  Odd,  had  flown  through  the  fractured  crystal,  and  lodging, 
singularly  enough,  in  the  key-hole,  with  an  end  projecting  out- 
ward, had  thus  arrested  the  revolution  of  the  minute  hand. 

"  Ah  !"  said  I,  "  I  see  how  it  is.  This  thing  speaks  for  itself. 
A  natural  accident,  such  as  will  happen  now  and  then !" 

I  gave  the  matter  no  further  consideration,  and  at  my  usual 
hour  retired  to  bed.  Here,  having  placed  a  candle  upon  a  read- 
ing stand  at  the  bed  head,  and  having  made  an  attempt  to  peruse 
some  pages  of  the  "  Omnipresence  of  the  Deity,"  I  unfortunately 
fell  asleep  in  less  than  twenty  seconds,  leaving  the  light  burning 
as  it  was. 

My  dreams  were  terrifically  disturbed  by  visions  of  the  Angel  oi 
the  Odd.  Methought  he  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  couch,  drew  aside  the 
curtains,  and,  in  the  hollow,  detestable  tones  of  a  rum  puncheon, 
menaced  me  with  the  bitterest  vengeance  for  the  contempt  with 
which  I  had  treated  him.  He  concluded  a  long  harangue  by 
taking  off  his  funnel-cap,  inserting  the  tube  into  my  gullet,  and 
thus  deluging  me  with  an  ocean  of  Kirschenwiisser,  which  he 
poured,  in  a  continuous  flood,  from  one  of  the  long  necked 
bottles  that  stood  him  instead  of  an  arm.  My  agony  was  at 
length  insufferable,  and  I  awoke  just  in  time  to  perceive  that  a 
rat  had  run  off  with  the  lighted  candle  from  the  stand,  but  not 
in  season  to  prevent  his  making  his  escape  with  it  through  the 
hole.  Very  soon,  a  strong  suffocating  odor  assailed  my  nostrils; 


284  THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD. 

the  house,  I  clearly  perceived,  was  on  fire.  In  a  few  minutes 
the  blaze  broke  forth  with  violence,  and  in  an  incredibly  brief 
period  the  entire  building  was  wrapped  in  flames.  All  egress 
from  my  chamber,  except  through  a  window,  was  cut  off.  The 
crowd,  however,  quickly  procured  and  raised  a  long  ladder.  By 
means  of  this  I  was  descending  rapidly,  and  in  apparent  safety, 
when  a  huge  hog,  about  whose  rotund  stomach,  and  indeed  about 
whose  whole  air  and  physiognomy,  there  was  something  which 
reminded  me  of  the  Angel  of  the  Odd — when  this  hog,  I 
say,  which  hither*o  had  been  quietly  slumbering  in  the  mud, 
*ook  it  suddenly  into  his  head  that  his  left  shoulder  needed 
scratching,  and  could  find  no  more  convenient  rubbing-post  than 
that  afforded  by  the  foot  of  the  ladder.  In  an  instant  I  was 
precipitated  and  had  the  misfortune  to  fracture  my  arm. 

This  accident,  with  the  loss  of  my  insurance,  and  with  the 
more  serious  loss  of  my  hair,  the  whole  of  which  had  been 
singed  off  by  the  fire,  predisposed  me  to  serious  impressions,  so 
that,  finally,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  take  a  wife.  There  was  a 
rich  widow  disconsolate  for  the  loss  of  her  seventh  husband,  and 
to  her  wounded  spirit  I  offered  the  balm  of  my  vows.  She 
yielded  a  reluctant  consent  to  my  prayers.  I  knelt  at  her  feet 
in  gratitude  and  adoration.  She  blushed  and  bowed  her  luxu- 
riant tresses  into  close  contact  with  those  supplied  me,  tempo- 
rarily, by  Grandjean.  I  know  not  how  the  entanglement  took 
place,  but  so  it  was.  I  arose  with  a  shining  pate,  wigless ;  she 
in  disdain  and  wrath,  half  buried  in  alien  hair.  Thus  ended 
my  hopes  of  the  widow  by  an  accident  which  could  not  have 
been  anticipated,  to  be  sure,  but  which  the  natural  sequence 
of  events  had  brought  about. 

Without  despairing,  however,  I  undertook  the  siege  of  a  less 
implacable  heart.  The  fates  were  again  propitious  for  a  brief 
period;  but  again  a  trivial  incident  interfered.  Meeting  my 
betrothed  in  an  avenue  thronged  with  the  elite  of  the  city,  I  was 
hastening  to  greet  her  with  one  of  my  best  considered  bows, 
when  a  small  particle  of  some  foreign  matter,  lodging  in  the 
corner  of  my  eye,  rendered  me,  for  the  moment,  completely 
blind.  Before  I  could  recover  my  sight,  the  lady  of  my  love 
had  disappeared — irreparably  affronted  at  what  she  chose  to 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD.  285 

consider  my  premeditated  rudeness  in  passing  her  by  ungreeted. 
While  I  stood  bewildered  at  the  suddenness  of  this  accident, 
(which  might  have  happened,  nevertheless,  to  any  one  under  the 
sun),  and  while  I  still  continued  incapable  of  sight,  I  was  ac- 
costed by  the  Angel  of  the  Odd,  who  proffered  me  his  aid  with 
a  civility  which  I  had  no  reason  to  expect.  He  examined  my 
disordered  eye  with  much  gentleness  and  skill,  informed  me  that 
I  had  a  drop  in  it,  and  (whatever  a  "  drop"  was)  took  it  out,  and 
afforded  me  relief. 

I  now  considered  it  high  time  to  die,  (since  fortune  had  sc 
determined  to  persecute  me),  and  accordingly  made  my  way  to 
the  nearest  river.  Here,  divesting  myself  of  my  clothes,  (for 
there  is  no  reason  why  we  cannot  die  as  we  were  born),  I  threw 
myself  headlong  into  the  current ;  the  sole  witness  of  my  fate 
being  a  solitary  crow  that  had  been  seduced  into  the  eating  of 
brandy-saturated  corn,  and  so  had  staggered  away  from  his 
fellows.  No  sooner  had  I  entered  the  water  than  this  bird  took  it 
into  his  head  to  fly  away  with  the  most  indispensable  portion  of 
my  apparel.  Postponing,  therefore,  for  the  present,  my  suicidal 
design,  I  just  slipped  my  nether  extremities  into  the  sleeves  of 
my  coat,  and  betook  myself  to  a  pursuit  of  the  felon  with  all  tho 
nimbleness  which  the  case  required  and  its  circumstances 
would  admit.  But  my  evil  destiny  attended  me  still.  As  I  ran 
at  full  speed,  with  my  nose  up  in  the  atmosphere,  and  intent 
only  upon  the  purloiner  of  my  property,  I  suddenly  perceived 
that  my  feet  rested  no  longer  upon  terra-firma  ;  the  fact  is,  I  had 
thrown  myself  over  a  precipice,  and  should  inevitably  have  been 
dashed  to  pieces  but  for  my  good  fortune  in  grasping  the  end  of 
a  long  guide-rope,  which  depended  from  a  passing  balloon. 

As  soon  as  I  sufficiently  recovered  my  senses  to  comprehend 
the  terrific  predicament  in  which  I  stood  or  rather  hung,  I  exert- 
ed all  the  power  of  my  lungs  to  make  ihat  predicament  known 
to  the  aeronaut  overhead.  But  for  a  long  time  I  exerted 
myself  in  vain.  Either  the  fool  could  not,  or  the  villain  would 
not  perceive  me.  Meantime  the  machine  rapidly  soared,  while 
my  strength  even  more  rapidly  failed.  I  was  soon  upon  the 
point  of  resigning  myself  to  my  fate,  and  dropping  quietly  into 
the  sea,  when  my  spirits  were  suddenly  revived  by  hearing  a 


286  THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD. 

hollow  voice  from  above,  which  seemed  to  be  lazily  humming  an 
opera  air.  Looking  up,  I  perceived  the  Angel  of  the  Odd.  He 
was  leaning  with  his  arms  folded,  over  the  rim  of  the  car ;  and 
with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  at  which  he  puffed  leisurely,  seemed  to 
be  upon  excellent  terms  with  himself  and  the  universe.  I  was 
too  much  exhausted  to  speak,  so  I  merely  regarded  him  with  an 
imploring  air. 

For  several  minutes,  although  he  looked  me  full  in  the  face, 
he  said  nothing.  At  length  removing  carefully  his  meerschaum 
from  the  right  to  the  left  corner  of  his  mouth,  he  condescended  to 
speak. 

"  Who  pe  you,"  he  asked,  "  und  what  der  teuffel  you  pe  do 
dare  ?" 

To  this  piece  of  impudence,  cruelty  and  affectation,  I  could 
reply  only  by  ejaculating  the  monosyllable  "  Help !" 

"  Elp  !"  echoed  the  ruffian — "  not  I.  Dare  iz  te  pottle — elp 
yourself,  und  pe  tam'd  !" 

With  these  words  he  let  fall  a  heavy  bottle  of  Kirschenwasser 
which,  dropping  precisely  upon  the  crown  of  my  head,  caused 
me  to  imagine  that  my  brains  were  entirely  knocked  out.  Im- 
pressed with  this  idea,  I  was  about  to  relinquish  my  hold  and 
give  up  the  ghost  with  a  good  grace,  when  I  was  arrested  by  the 
cry  of  the  Angel,  who  bade  me  hold  on. 

"  Old  on  !"  he  said  ;  "  don't  pe  in  te  urry — don't !  Will  you 
pe  take  de  odder  pottle,  or  ave  you  pe  got  zober  yet  and  come  to 
your  zenzes  ?" 

I  made  haste,  hereupon,  to  nod  my  head  twice — once  in  the 
negative,  meaning  thereby  that  I  would  prefer  not  taking  the 
other  bottle  at  present — and  once  in  the  affirmative,  intending 
thus  to  imply  that  I  was  sober  and  had  positively  come  to  my 
senses.  By  these  means  I  somewhat  softened  the  Angel. 

"Und  you  pelief,  ten,"  he  inquired,  "at  te  last?  You  pelief, 
ten,  in  te  possibility  of  te  odd  ?" 

I  again  nodded  my  head  in  assent. 

"  Und  you  ave  pelief  in  me,  te  Angel  of  te  Odd  ?" 

I  nodded  again. 

"  Und  you  acknowledge  tat  you  pe  te  blind  dronk  und  te 
vool?" 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  ODD.  287 

I  nodded  once  more. 

"  Put  your  right  hand  into  your  left  hand  preeches  pocket,  ten, 
in  token  ov  your  vull  zubrnizzion  unto  te  Angel  ov  te  Odd." 

This  thing,  for  very  obvious  reasons,  I  found  it  quite  impossi- 
ble to  do.  In  the  first  place,  my  left  arm  had  been  broken  in 
my  fall  from  the  ladder,  and,  therefore,  had  I  let  go  my  hold 
with  the  right  hand,  I  must  have  let  go  altogether.  In  the 
second  place,  I  could  have  no  breeches  until  I  came  across  the 
crow.  I  was  therefore  obliged,  much  to  my  regret,  to  shake  my 
aead  in  the  negative — intending  thus  to  give  the  Angel  to  under- 
etand  that  I  found  it  inconvenient,  just  at  that  moment,  to  comply 
with  his  very  reasonable  demand  !  No  sooner,  however,  had  I 
ceased  shaking  my  head  than — 

rf  Go  to  der  teuffel,  ten  !"  roared  the  Angel  of  the  Odd. 

In  pronouncing  these  words,  he  drew  a  sharp  knife  across  the 
guide-rope  by  which  I  was  suspended,  and  as  we  then  happened 
to  be  precisely  over  my  own  house,  (which,  during  my  peregrin- 
ations,* had  been  handsomely  rebuilt,)  it  so  occurred  that  I 
tumbled  headlong  down  the  ample  chimney  and  alit  upon  the 
dining-room  hearth. 

Upon  coming  to  my  senses,  (for  the  fall  had  very  thoroughly 
stunned  me,)  I  found  it  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  lay 
outstretched  where  I  had  fallen  from  the  balloon.  My  head 
grovelled  in  the  ashes  of  an  extinguished  fire,  while  my  feet  re« 
posed  upon  the  wreck  of  a  small  table,  overthrown,  and  amid  the 
fragments  of  a  miscellaneous  dessert,  intermingled  with  a  news- 
paper, some  broken  glasses  and  shattered  bottles,  and  an  empty 
jug  of  the  Schiedam  Kirschenwasser.  Thus  revenged 
the  Angel  of  the  Odd. 


MELLONTA  TAUTA. 


ON  BOARD  BALLOON   "  SKYLARK,"  April  I,  2848. 

Now,  iny  dear  friend — now,  for  your  sins,  you  are  to  suffer  the 
infliction  of  a  long  gossiping  letter.  I  tell  you  distinctly  that  1 
am  going  to  punish  you  for  all  your  impertinences  by  being  as 
tedious  as  discursive,  as  incoherent  and  as  unsatisfactory  as  pos- 
sible. Besides,  here  I  am,  cooped  up  in  a  dirty  balloon,  with 
some  one  or  two  hundred  of  the  canaille,  all  bound  on  a  pleasure 
excursion,  (what  a  funny  idea  some  people  have  of  pleasure !) 
arid  I  have  no  prospect  of  touching  terra  Jirma  for  a  month  at 
least.  Nobody  to  talk  to.  Nothing  to  do.  When  one  has 
nothing  to  do,  then  is  the  time  to  correspond  with  one's  friends. 
You  perceive,  then,  why  it  is  that  I  write  you  this  letter — it  is 
on  account  of  my  ennui  and  your  sins. 

Get  ready  your  spectacles  and  make  up  your  mind  to  be  an- 
noyed. I  mean  to  write  at  you  every  day  during  this  odious 
voyage. 

Heigho  !  when  will  any  Invention  visit  the  human  pericranium  ? 
Are  we  forever  to  be  doomed  to  the  thousand  inconveniences  of 
the  balloon  ?  Will  nobody  contrive  a  more  expeditious  mode  of 
progress  ?  This  jog-trot  movement,  to  my  thinking,  is  little  less 
than  positive  torture.  Upon  my  word  we  have  not  made  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  the  hour  since  leaving  home !  The  very 
birds  beat  us — at  least  some  of  them.  I  assure  you  that  I  do 
not  exaggerate  at  all.  Our  motion,  no  doubt,  seems  slower  than 
it  actually  is — this  on  account  of  our  having  no  objects  about  us 
by  which  to  estimate  our  velocity,  and  on  account  of  our  going 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  289 

with  the  wind.  To  be  sure,  whenever  we  meet  a  balloon  we 
have  a  chance  of  perceiving  our  rate,  and  then,  I  admit,  tilings 
do  not  appear  so  very  bad.  Accustomed  as  I  am  to  this  mode 
of  travelling,  I  cannot  get  over  a  kind  of  giddiness  whenever  a 
balloon  passes  us  in  a  current  directly  overhead.  It  always 
seems  to  me  like  an  immense  bird  of  prey  about  to  pounce  upon 
us  and  carry  us  off  in  its  claws.  One  went  over  us  this  morning 
about  sunrise,  and  so  nearly  overhead  that  its  drag-rope  actually 
brushed  the  net-work  suspending  our  car,  and  caused  us  very 
serious  apprehension.  Our  captain  said  that  if  the  material  of 
the  bag  had  been  the  trumpery  varnished  "  silk"  of  five  hundred 
or  a  thousand  years  ago,  we  should  inevitably  have  been  damaged. 
This  silk,  as  he  explained  it  to  me,  was  a  fabric  composed  of  the 
entrails  of  a  species  of  earth-worm.  The  worm  was  carefully  fed 
on  mulberries — a  kind  of  fruit  resembling  a  water-melon — and, 
•when  sufficiently  fat,  was  crushed  in  a  mill.  The  paste  thus 
arising  was  called  papyrus  in  its  primary  state,  and  \\  ent  through 
a  variety  of  processes  until  it  finally  became  "  silk."  Singular  to 
relate,  it  was  once  much  admired  as  an  article  of  female  dress  ! 
Balloons  were  also  very  generally  constructed  from  it.  A  better 
kind  of  material,  it  appears,  was  subsequently  found  in  the  down 
surrounding  the  seed-vessels  of  a  plant  vulgarly  called  euphorli- 
um,  and  at  that  time  botariically  termed  milk-weed.  This  latter 
kind  of  silk  was  designated  as  silk-buckingham,  on  account  of  its 
superior  durability;  and  was  usually  prepared  for  use  by  being 
varnished  with  a  solution  of  gum  caoutchouc — a  substance  which 
in  some  respect  must  have  resembled  the  gutta  percha  now  in 
( ommon  use.  This  caoutchouc  was  occasionally  called  India  rub- 
ber or  rubber  of  whist,  and  was  no  doubt  one  of  the  numerous 
fungi.  Never  tell  me  again  that  I  am  not  at  heart  an  anti- 
quarian. 

Talking  of  drag-ropes — our  own,  it  seems,  has  this  moment 
knocked  a  man  overboard  from  one  of  the  small  magnetic  pro- 
pellers that  swarm  in  ocean  below  us — a  boat  of  about  six 
thousand  tons,  and,  from  all  accounts,  shamefully  crowded. 
These  diminutive  barques  should  be  prohibited  from  carrying 
more  than  a  definite  number  of  passengers.  The  man,  of  course, 
was  not  permitted  to  get  on  board  again,  and  was  soon  out  of 


290  MELLONTA  TAUTA. 

sight,  he;  and  his  life-preserver.  I  rejoice,  my  dear  friend,  that 
we  live  iu  an  age  so  enlightened  that  no  such  a  thing  as  an  indi- 
vidual is  supposed  to  exist.'  It  is  the  mass  for  which  the  true 
Humanity  cares.  By-the-by,  talking  of  Humanity,  do  you  know 
that  our  immortal  Wiggins  is  not  so  original  in  his  views  of  the 
Social  Condition  and  so  forth,  as  his  cotemporaries  are  inclined 
to  suppose  ?  Pundit  assures  me  that  the  same  ideas  were  put. 
nearly  in  the  same  way,  about  a  thousand  years  ago,  by  an  Irish 
philosopher  called  Furrier,  on  account  of  his  keeping  a  retail 
shop  for  cat  peltries  and  other  furs.  Pundit  knows,  you  know ; 
there  can  be  no  mistake  about  it.  How  very  wonderfully  do  we 
see  verified  every  day,  the  profound  observation  of  the  Hindoo 
Aries  Tottle  (as  quoted  by  Pundit) — "  Thus  must  we  say  that, 
not  once  or  twice,  or  a  few  times,  but  with  almost  infinite  repeti- 
tions, the  same  opinions  come  round  in  a  circle  among  men." 

April  2. — Spoke  to-day  the  magnetic  cutter  in  charge  of  the 
middle  section  of  floating  telegraph  wires.  I  learn  that  when 
this  species  of  telegraph  was  first  put  into  operation  by  Horse,  it 
was  considered  quite  impossible  to  convey  the  wires  over  sea 
but  now  we  are  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  where  the  difficulty  lay ! 
So  wags  the  world.  Tempora  mutantur — excuse  me  for  quoting 
the  Etruscan.  What  would  we  do  without  the  Atlantic  tele- 
graph ?  (Pundit  says  Atlantic  was  the  ancient  adjective.)  We 
lay  to  a  few  minutes  to  ask  the  cutter  some  questions,  and  learned, 
among  other  glorious  news,  that  civil  war  is  raging  in  Africia, 
while  the  plague  is  doing  its  good  work  beautifully  both  in  Yurope 
and  Ayesher.  Is  it  not  truly  remarkable  that,  before  the  magnifi- 
cent light  shed  upon  philosophy  by  Humanity,  the  world  was 
accustomed  to  regard  War  and  Pestilence  as  calamities  ?  Do 
you  know  that  prayers  were  actually  offered  up  in  the  ancient 
temples  to  the  end  that  these  evils  (!)  might  not  be  visited  upon 
mankind  ?  Is  it  not  really  difficult  to  comprehend  upon  what 
principle  of  interest  our  forefathers  acted  ?  Were  they  so  blind 
as  not  to  perceive  that  the  destruction  of  a  myriad  of  individuals  is 
only  so  much  positive  advantage  to  the  mass ! 

April  3. — It  is  really  a  very  tine  amusement  to  ascend  the 
rope-ladder  leading  to  the  summit  of  the  balloon-bag  and  thence 
survey  the  surrounding  world.  From  the  car  below,  you  know 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  291 

the  prospect  is  not  so  comprehensive — you  can  see  little  vertically. 
But  seated  here  (where  I  write  this)  in  the  luxuriously-cushioned 
open  piazza  of  the  summit,  one  can  see  everything  that  is  going 
on  in  all  directions-  Just  now,  there  is  quite  a  crowd  of  balloons 
in  sight,  and  they  present  a  very  animated  appearance,  while  the 
air  is  resonant  with  the  hum  of  so  many  millions  of  human  voices. 
I  have  heard  it  asserted  that  when  Yellow  or  (as  Pundit  witt 
have  it)  Violet,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been  the  first  aeronaut, 
maintained  the  practicability  of  traversing  the  atmosphere  in  all 
directions,  by  merely  ascending  or  descending  until  a  favorable 
current  was  attained,  he  was  scarcely  hearkened  to  at  all  by  his 
cotemporaries,  who  looked  upon  him  as  merely  an  ingenious  sort 
of  madman,  because  the  philosophers  (!)  of  the  day  declared  the 
thing  impossible.  Really  now  it  does  seem  to  me  quite  unac- 
countable how  anything  so  obviously  feasible  could  have  escaped 
the  sagacity  of  the  ancient  savans.  But  in  all  ages  the  great 
obstacles  to  advancement  in  Art  have  been  opposed  by  the  so- 
called  men  of  science.  To  be  sure,  our  men  of  science  are  not 
quite  so  bigoted  as  those  of  old : — oh,  I  have  something  so  queer 
to  tell  you  on  this  topic.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  not  more  than 
a  thousand  years  ago  since  the  metaphysicians  consented  to  re- 
lieve the  people  of  the  singular  fancy  that  there  existed  but  two 
possible  roads  for  the  attainment  of  Truth  !  Believe  it  if  you  can ! 
It  appears  that  long,  long  ago,  in  the  night  of  Time,  there  lived 
a  Turkish  philosopher  (or  Hindoo  possibly)  called  Aries  Tottle. 
This  person  introduced,  or  at  all  events  propagated  what  was 
termed  the  deductive  or  a  priori  mode  of  investigation.  He 
started  with  what  he  maintained  to  be  axioms  or  "self-evident 
truths,"  and  thence  proceeded  "  logically"  to  results.  His  great- 
est disciples  were  one  Neuclid  and  one  Cant.  Well,  Aries  Tottle 
flourished  supreme  until  the  advent  of  one  Hog,  surnamed  the 
"  Ettrick  Shepherd,"  who  preached  an  entirely  different  system, 
which  he  called  the  a  posteriori  or  inductive.  His  plan  referred 
altogether  to  Sensation.  He  proceeded  by  observing,  analyzing 
and  classifying  facts — instuntice  naturce,  as  they  were  affectedly 
called — into  general  laws.  Aries  Tottle's  mode,  in  a  word,  was 
based  on  noumena ;  Hog's  on  phenomena.  Well,  so  great  was 
the  admiration  excited  by  this  latter  system  that,  at  its  first  intro- 


!4«J2  MELLONTA  TAUTA. 

duction,  Aiies  Tottle  fell  into  disrepute;  but  finally  he  recovered 
ground  and  was  permitted  to  divide  the  realm  of  Truth  with  hi? 
more  modern  rival.  The  savans  now  maintained  that  the  Aris- 
totelian and  Baconian  roads  were  the  sole  possible  avenues  tc 
knowledge.  "  Baconian,"  you  must  know,  was  an  adjective  in 
vented  as  equivalent  to  Hog-ian  and  more  euphonious  and 
dignified. 

Now,  my  dear  friend,  I  do  assure  you,  most  positively,  that  1 
represent  this  matter  fairly,  on  the  soundest  authority;  and  you 
can  easily  understand  how  a  notion  so  absurd  on  its  very  face 
must  have  operated  to  retard  the  progress  of  all  true  know- 
ledge— which  makes  its  advances  almost  invariably  by  intuitive 
bounds.  The  ancient  idea  confined  investigation  to  crawling  ; 
and  for  hundreds  of  years  so  great  was  the  infatuation  about  Hog 
especially,  that  a  virtual  end  was  put  to  all  thinking  properly  so 
called.  No  man  dared  utter  a  truth  to  which  he  felt  himself  in- 
debted to  his  Soul  alone.  It  mattered  not  whether  the  truth  was 
even  demonstrubly  a  truth,  for  the  bullet-headed  savans  of  the 
time  regarded  only  the  road  by  which  he  had  attained  it.  They 
would  not  even  look  at  the  end.  "  Let  us  see  the  means,"  they 
cried,  "  the  means  !"  If,  upon  investigation  of  the  means,  it  was 
found  to  come  neither  under  the  category  Aries  (that  is  to  say 
Ram)  nor  under  the  category  Hog,  why  then  the  savans  went  no 
farther,  but  pronounced  the  "theorist"  a  fool,  and  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  him  or  his  truth. 

Now,  it  cannot  be  maintained,  even,  that  by  the  crawling  sys- 
tem the  greatest  amount  of  truth  would  be  attained  in  any  long 
series  of  ages,  for  the  repression  of  imagination  was  an  evil  not 
to  be  compensated  for  by  any  superior  certainty  in  the  ancient 
modes  of  investigation.  The  error  of  these  Jurmains,  these 
Vrinch,  these  Inglitch  and  these  Amri^cans,  (the  latter,  by  the 
way,  were  our  own  immediate  progenitors,)  was  an  error  quite 
analogous  with  that  of  the  wiseacre  who  fancies  that  he  must  ne- 
cessarily see  an  object  the  better  the  more  closely  he  holds  it  to 
his  eyes.  These  people  blinded  themselves  by  details.  When 
they  proceeded  Hoggishly,  their  "  facts"  were  by  means  always 
facts — a  matter  of  little  consequence  had  it  not  been  for  assum- 
ing that  they  were  facts  and  must  be  facts  because  they  appeared 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  293 

to  be  such.  When  they  proceeded  on  the  path  of  the  Ram,  their 
course  was  scarceJv  as  straight  as  a  ram's  horn,  for  they  nevet 
had  an  axiom  which  was  an  axiom  at  all.  They  must  have 
been  very  blind  not  to  see  this,  even  in  their  own  day  ;  for  even 
in  their  own  day  many  of  the  long  "  established"  axioms  had 
been  rejected.  For  example — " Ex  nihilo,  nihiljit ;"  "a  body 
cannot,  act  where  it  is  not ;"  "  there  cannot  exist  antipodes  ;" 
*•  darkness  cannot  come  out  of  light" — all  these,  and  a  dozen 
other  similar  propositions,  formerly  admitted  without  hesitation 
as  axioms,  were,  even  at  the  period  of  which  I  speak,  seen  to  be 
untenable.  How  absurd  in  these  people,  then,  to  persist  in 
putting  faith  in  "  axioms"  as  immutable  bases  of  Truth !  But 
even  out  of  the  mouths  of  their  soundest  reasoners  it  is  easy  to 
demonstrate  the  futility,  the  impalpability  of  their  axioms  in  gen- 
eral. Who  was  the  soundest  of  their  logicians  ?  Let  me  see  ! 

1  will  go  and  ask  Pundit  and  be  back  in  a  minute Ah, 

here  we  have  it !  Here  is  a  book  written  nearly  a  thousand 
years  ago  and  lately  translated  from  the  Inglitch — which,  .by  the 
way,  appears  to  have  been  the  rudiment  of  the  Amriccan.  Pun- 
dit says  it  is  decidedly  the  cleverest  ancient  work  on  its  topic, 
Logic.  The  author  (who  was  much  thought  of  in  his  day)  was 
one  Miller,  or  Mill  ;  and  we  find  it  recorded  of  him,  as  a  point 
of .-  ome  importance,  that  he  had  a  mill-horse  called  Bentham. 
But  let  us  glance  at  the  treatise! 

Ah  ! — "  Ability  or  inability  to  conceive,"  says  Mr.  Mill, 
very  properly,  "  is  in  no  case  to  be  received  as  a  criterion  of 
axiomatic  truth."  What  modern  in  his  senses  would  ever  think  of 
disputing  this  truism  ?  The  only  wonder  with  us  must  be,  how  it 
happened  that  Mr.  Mill  conceived  it  necessary  even  to  hint  at 
any  thing  so  obvious.  So  far  good — but  let  us  turn  over  another 
page.  What  have  we  here  ? — k<  Contradictories  cannot  both  bo 
true — that  is,  cannot  co-exist  in  nature."  Here  Mr.  Mill  means, 
for  example,  that  a  tree  must  be  either  a  tree  or  not  a  tree — that 
it  cannot  be  at  the  same  time  a  tree  and  not  a  tree.  Very  well , 
but  I  ask  him  why.  His  reply  is  this — and  never  pretends  to  be 
any  thing  else  than  this — "  Because  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that 
coniradiolories  can  both  be  true."  But  this  is  no  answer  atall,  by  his 
own  showing;  for  has  he  not  just  admitted  as  a  truism  that 


294  MELLONTA  TAUTA. 

"  ability  or  inability  to  conceive  is  in  no  case  to  be  icceived  as  a 
criterion  of  axiomatic  truth." 

Now  I  do  not  complain  of  these  ancients  so  much  because  theft 
logic  is,  by  their  own  showing,  utterly  baseless,  worthless  and 
fantastic  altogether,  as  because  of  their  pompous  and  imbecile 
proscription  of  all  other  roads  of  Truth,  of  all  other  means  for  ita 
attainment  than  the  two  preposterous  paths — the  one  of  creeping 
and  the  one  of  crawling — to  which  they  have  dared  to  confine  the 
Soul  that  loves  nothing  so  well  as  to  soar. 

B-the-by,  my  dear  friend,  do  you  not  think  it  would  have  puz- 
zled these  ancient  dogmaticians  to  have  determined  by  which  of 
'/lieir  two  roads  it  was  that  the  most  important  and  most  sublime 
of  all  their  truths  was,  in  effect,  attained  ?  I  mean  the  truth  of 
Gravitation.  Newton  owed  it  to  Kepler.  Kepler  admitted  that 
his  three  laws  were  guessed  at — these  three  laws  of  all  laws 
which  led  the  great  Inglitch  mathematician  to  his  principle,  the 
\.a?is  of  all  physical  principle — to  go  behind  which  we  must  enter 
t  he  Kingdom  of  Metaphysics.  Kepler  guessed — that,  is  to  say 
imagined.  He  was  essentially  a  "  theorist" — that  word  now  of 
so  much  sanctity,  formerly  an  epithet  of  contempt.  Would  h 
not  have  puzzled  these  old  moles  too,  to  have  explained  by  which 
of  the  two  "  roads"  a  cryptographist  unriddles  a  cryptograph  of 
more  than  usual  secrecy,  or  by  which  of  the  two  roads  Champol- 
lion  directed  mankind  to  those  enduring  and  almost  innumerable 
truths  which  resulted  from  his  deciphering  the  Hieroglyphics? 

One  word  more  on  this  topic  and  I  will  be  done  boring  you. 
Is  it  not  passing  strange  that,  with  their  eternal  prating  about 
roads  to  Truth,  these  bigoted  people  missed  what  we  now  so 
clearly  perceive  to  be  the  great  highway — that  of  Consistency  ? 
Does  it  not  seem  singular  how  they  should  have  failed  to  deduce 
from  the  works  of  God  the  vital  fact  that  a  perfect  consistency 
must  be  an  absolute  truth  !  How  plain  has  been  our  progress 
since  the  late  announcement  of  this  proposition!  Investigation 
lias  been  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  ground-moles  and  given, 
as  a  task,  to  the  true  and  only  true  thinkers,  the  men  of  ardent 
imagination.  These  latter  theorize.  Can  you  not  fancy  the 
shout  of  scorn  with  which  my  words  would  be  received  by  om 
progenitors  were  it  possible  for  them  to  be  now  looking  over  my 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  298 

shoulder  ?  These  men,  I  say  theorize  ;  and  their  theories  are 
simply  conected,  reduced,  systematized — cleared,  little  by  little, 
of  their  dross  of  inconsistency — until,  finally,  a  perfect  consist- 
ency stands  apparent  which  even  the  most  stolid  admit,  because 
it  is  a  consistency,  to  be  an  absolute  and  an  unquestionable  truth, 
April  4. — The  new  gas  is  doing  wonders,  in  conjunction  with 
the  new  improvement  with  gutta  percha.  How  very  safe,  com- 
modious, manageable,  and  in  every  respect  convenient  are  our 
modern  balloons  !  Here  is  an  immense  one  approaching  us  at 
the  rate  of  at  least  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  an  hour.  It  seems 
to  be  crowded  with  people — perhaps  there  are  three  or  four 
hundred  passengers — and  yet  it  soars  to  an  elevation  of  nearly 
a  mile,  looking  down  upon  poor  us  with  sovereign  contempt. 
Still  a  hundred  or  even  two  hundred  miles  an  hour  is  slow 
travelling,  after  all.  Do  you  remember  our  flight  on  the  rail- 
road across  the  Kanadaw  continent  ? — fully  three  hundred  miles 
the  hour — that  was  travelling.  Nothing  to  be  seen,  though — 
nothing  to  be  done  but  flirt,  feast  and  dance  in  the  magnificent 
saloons.  Do  you  remember  what  an  odd  sensation  was  experi- 
enced when,  by  chance,  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  external  objects 
while  the  cars  were  in  full  flight?  Everything  seemed  unique 
— in  one  mass.  For  my  part,  I  cannot  say  but  that  I  preferred 
the  travelling  by  the  slow  train  of  a  hundred  miles  the  houi 
Here  we  were  permitted  to  have  glass  windows — even  to  have 
them  open — and  something  like  a  distinct  view  of  the  country 

was  attainable Pundit   says   that  the  route   for   the 

great  Kanadaw  railroad  must  have  been  in  some  measure  marked 
out  about  nine  hundred  years  ago  !  In  fact,  he  goes  so  far  as  to 
assert  that  actual  traces  of  a  road  are  still  discernible — 
traces  referable  to  a  period  quite  as  remote  as  that  mentioned. 
The  track,  it  appears,  was  double  only ;  ours,  you  know,  ha* 
twelve  paths;  and  three  or  four  new  ones  are  in  preparation. 
The  ancient  rails  were  very  slight,  and  placed  so  close  together 
as  to  be,  according  to  modern  notions,  quite  frivolous,  if  not  dan- 
gerous in  the  extreme.  The  present  width  of  track — fifty  feet 
• — is  considered,  indeed,  scarcely  secure  enough.  For  my  part, 
I  make  no  doubt  that  a  track  of  some  sort  must  have  existed  in 
very  remote  times,  as  Pundit  asserts ;  for  nothing  can  be  clearer, 


296  MELLONTA  TAUTA. 

to  my  mind,  than  that,  at  some  period — not  less  than  seven  ceo 
turies  ago,  certainly — the  Northern  and  Southern  Kanadaw  con- 
tinents were  united;  the  Kanawdians,  then,  would  have  been 
driven,  by  necessity,  to  a  great  railroad  across  the  continent. 

April  5. — I  am  almost  devoured  by  ennui.  Pundit  is  the  only 
eonversible  person  on  board ;  and  he,  poor  soul !  can  speak  of 
nothing  but  antiquities.  He  has  been  occupied  all  the  day  in 
the  attempt  to  convince  me  that  the  ancient  Amriccans  governed 
themselves  ! — did  ever  anybody  hear  of  such  an  absurdity  ? — that 
they  existed  in  a  sort  of  every-man-for-himself  confederacy, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  "  prairie  dogs"  that  we  read  of  in  fable. 
He  says  that  they  started  with  the  queerest  idea  conceivable, 
viz :  that  all  men  are  born  free  and  equal — this  in  the  very  teeth 
of  the  laws  of  gradation  so  visibly  impressed  upon  all  things 
both  in  the  moral  and  physical  universe.  Every  man  "  voted," 
as  they  called  it — that  is  to  say,  meddled  with  public  affairs — 
until,  at  length,  it  was  discovered  that  what  is  everybody's  busi- 
ness is  nobody's,  and  that  the  "  Republic"  (so  the  absurd  thing 
was  called)  was  without  a  government  at  all.  It  is  related,  how- 
ever, that  the  first  circumstance  which  disturbed,  very  parti- 
cularly, the  self-complacency  of  the  philosophers  who  constructed 
this  "  Republic,"  was  the  startling  discovery  that  universal  suf- 
frage gave  opportunity  for  fraudulent  schemes,  by  means  of 
which  any  desired  number  of  votes  might  at  any  time  be  polled, 
without  the  possibility  of  prevention  or  even  detection,  by  any 
party  which  should  be  merely  villanous  enough  not  to  be 
ashamed  of  the  fraud.  A  little  reflection  upon  this  discovery 
sufficed  to  render  evident  the  consequences,  which  were  that 
rascality  must  predominate — in  a  word,  that  a  republican  govern- 
ment could  never  be  anything  but  a  rascally  one.  While  the 
philosophers,  however,  were  busied  in  blushing  at  their  stupidity 
in  not  having  foreseen  these  inevitable  evils,  and  intent  upon  the 
invention  of  new  theories,  the  matter  was  put  to  an  abrupt  issue  by 
a  fellow  of  the  name  of  Mob,  who  took  everything  into  his  own 
hands  and  set  up  a  despotism,  in  comparison  with  which  those, 
of  the  fabulous  Zeros  and  Hellofagabaluses  were  respectab.  e  and 
delectable.  This  Mob  (a  foreigner,  by-the-by),  is  said  to  have 
been  the  most  odious  of  all  men  that  ever  encumbered  the  earth 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  5497 

He  was  a  giant  in  stature— insolent,  rapacious,  filthy ;  had  the 
gall  of  a  bullock  with  the  heart  of  an  hyena  and  the  brains  of 
a  peacock.  He  died,  at  length,  by  dint  of  his  own  energies,, 
which  exhausted  him.  Nevertheless,  he  had  his  use?,  as  every- 
thing has,  however  vile,  and  taught  mankind  a  lesson  which  to 
this  day  it  is  in  no  danger  of  forgetting — never  to  run  directly 
contrary  to  the  natural  analogies.  As  for  Republicanism,  no 
analogy  could  be  found  for  it  upon  the  face  of  the  earth — unless 
we  except  the  case  of  the  "  prairie  dogs,"  an  exception  which 
seems  to  demonstrate,  if  anything,  that  democracy  is  a  very  ad- 
mirable form  of  government — for  dogs. 

April  6. — Last  night  had  a  fine  view  of  Alpha  Lyroe,  whose 
disk,  through  our  captain's  spy-glass,  subtends  an  angle  of 
half  a  degree,  looking  very  much  as  our  suu  does  to  the  naked 
eye  on  a  misty  day.  Alpha  Lyrae,  although  so  very  much  larger 
than  our  sun,  by-the-by,  resembles  him  closely  as  regards  its  spots, 
its  atmosphere,  and  in  many  other  particulars.  It  is  only  within 
the  last  century,  Pundit  tells  me.  that  the  binary  relation  exist- 
ing between  these  two  orbs  began  even  to  be  suspected.  The 
evident  motion  of  our  system  in  the  heavens  was  (strange  to 
say  !)  referred  to  an  orbit  about  a  prodigious  star  in  the  centre 
of  the  galaxy.  About  this  star,  or  at  all  events  about  a  centre 
of  gravity  common  to  all  the  globes  of  the  Milky  Way  and 
supposed  to  be  near  Alcyone  in  the  Pleiades,  every  one  of  these 
globes  -was  declared  to  be  revolving,  our  own  performing  the 
circuit  in  a  period  of  117,000,000  of  years !  We,  with  our 
present  lights,  our  vast  telescopic  improvements,  and  so  forth,  of 
course  find  it  difficult  to  comprehend  the  ground  of  an  idea  such 
as  this.  Its  first  propogator  was  one  Mudler.  He  was  led,  we 
must  presume,  to  this  wild  hypothesis  by  mere  analogy  in  the 
first  instance ;  but,  this  being  the  case,  he  should  have  at  least 
adhered  to  analogy  in  its  development.  A  great  central  orb 
was,  in  fact,  suggested ;  so  far  Mudler  was  consistent.  This 
central  orb,  however,  dynamically,  should  have  been  greater 
than  all  its  surrounding  orbs  taken  together.  The  question 
mighl  then  have  been  asked — "  Why  do  we  not  see  it  ?" — we, 
especially,  who  occupy  the  mid  region  of  the  cluster — the  very 
locality  near  which,  at  least,  must  be  situated  this  inconceivable 


298  MELLONTA  TAUTA. 

central  sun.  The  astronomer,  perhaps,  at  this  point,  took 
refuge  in  the  suggestion  of  non-luminosity ;  and  here  analogy 
was  suddenly  let  fall.  But  even  admitting  the  central  orb  non- 
luminous,  how  did  he  manage  to  explain  its  failure  to  be  rendered 
risible  by  the  incalculable  host  of  glorious  suns  glaring  in  all 
directions  about  it  ?  No  doubt  what  he  finally  maintained  was 
merely  a  centre  of  gravity  common  to  all  the  revolving  orbs — 
but  here  again  analogy 'must  have  been  let  fall.  Our  system 
revolves,  it  is  true,  about  a  common  centre  of  gravity,  but  it 
does  this  in  connection  with  and  in  consequence  of  a  material 
sun  whose  mass  more  than  counterbalances  the  rest  of  the 
system.  The  mathematical  circle  is  a  curve  composed  of  an 
inlinity  of  straight  lines  ;  but  this  idea  of  the  circle — this  idea  of 
it  which,  in  regard  to  all  earthly  geometry,  we  consider  as 
merely  the  mathematical,  in  contradistinction  from  the  practical, 
idea — is,  in  sober  fact,  the  practical,  concept  ion  which  alone  we 
have  any  right  to  entertain  in  respect  to  those  Titanic  circles 
with  which  we  have  to  deal,  at  least  in  fancy,  when  we  suppose 
our  system,  with  its  fellows,  revolving  about  a  point  in  the  centre 
of  the  galaxy.  Let  the  most  vigorous  of  human  imaginations 
but  attempt  to  take  a  single  step  towards  the  comprehension  of 
a  circuit  so  unutterable !  It  would  scarcely  be  paradoxical  to 
say  that  a  flash  of  lightning  itself,  travelling  forever  upon  the 
circumference  of  this  inconceivable  circle,  would  still  forever  be 
travelling  in  a  straight  line.  That  the  path  of  our  sun  along 
such  a  circumference — that  the  direction  of  our  system  in  such 
an  orbit — would,  to  any  human  perception,  deviate  in  the 
slightest  degree  from  a  straight  line  even  in  a  million  of  years, 
is  a  proposition  not  to  be  entertained ;  and  yet  these  ancient 
astronomers  \vere  absolutely  cajoled,  it  appears,  into  believing 
that  a  decisive  curvature  had  become  apparent  during  the  brief 
period  of  their  astronomical  history — during  the  mere  point — 
during  the  utter  nothingness  of  two  or  three  thousand  years ! 
How  incomprehensible,  that  considerations  such  as  this  did  not 
at  once  indicate  to  them  the  true  state  of  affairs — that  of  the 
binary  revolution  of  our  sun  and  Alpha  Lyrse  around  a  common 
centre  of  gravity  ! 

April  7 . — Continued  last  night  our  astronomical  amusements. 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  2y* 

Had  a  fine  view  of  the  five  Nepturian  asteroids,  and  watched 
with  much  interest  the  putting  up  of  a  huge  impost  on  a  couple 
of  lintels  in  the  new  temple  at  Daphnis  in  the  moon.  It  was 
amusing  to  think  that  creatures  so  diminutive  as  the  lunarians, 
and  bearing  so  little  resemblance  to  humanity,  yet  evinced  a  me- 
chanical ingenuity  so  much  superior  to  our  own.  One  finds  it 
difficult,  too,  to  conceive  the  vast  masses  which  these  people  handle 
so  easily,  to  be  as  light  as  our  reason  tells  us  they  actually  are. 
April  8. — Eureka  !  Pundit  is  in  his  glory.  A  balloon  from 
Kanadaw  spoke  us  to-day  and  threw  on  board  several  late  papers; 
they  contain  some  exceedingly  curious  information  relative  to 
Kanawdian  or  rather  to  Amriccan  antiquities.  You  know,  I 
presume,  that  laborers  have  for  some  months  been  employed  in 
preparing  the  ground  for  a  new  fountain  at  Paradise,  the  empe- 
ror's principal  pleasure  garden.  Paradise,  it  appears,  has  been, 
literally  speaking,  an  island  time  out  of  mind — that  is  to  say,  its 
northern  boundary  was  always  (as  far  back  as  any  records  ex- 
tend) a  rivulet,  or  rather  a  very  narrow  arm  of  the  sea.  This 
arm  was  gradually  widened  until  it  attained  its  present  breadth — 
a  mile.  The  whole  length  of  the  island  is  nine  miles;  the  breadth 
varies  materially.  The  entire  area  (so  Pundit  says)  was,  about 
eight  hundred  years  ago,  densely  packed  with  houses,  some  of 
them  twenty  stories  high ;  land  (for  some  most  unaccountable  rea- 
son) being  considered  as  especially  precious  just  in  this  vicinity. 
The  disastrous  earthquake,  however,  of  the  year  2050,  so  totally  up- 
rooted and  overwhelmed  the  town  (for  it  was  almost  too  large  to 
be  called  a  village)  that  the  most  indefatigable  of  our  antiquari-  • 
ans  have  never  yet  been  able  to  obtain  from  the  site  any 
sufficient  data  (in  the  shape  of  coins,  medals  or  inscriptions) 
wherewith  to  build  up  even  the  ghost  of  a  theory  concerning  die 
manners,  customs,  &c.  &c.  &c.,  of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants. 
Nearly  all  that  we  have  hitherto  known  of  them  is,  that  they 
were  a  portion  of  the  Knickerbocker  tribe  of  savages  infesting 
the  continent  at  its  first  discovery  by  Recorder  Riker,  a  knight 
of  the  Golden  Fleece.  They  were  by  no  means  uncivilized, 
however,  but  cultivated  various  arts  and  even  sciences  after  a 
fashion  of  their  own.  It  is  related  of  them  that  they  were  acute 
in  many  respects,  but  were  oddly  afflicted  with  a  monomania  for 
building  what,  in  the  ancient  Amriccan,  was  denominated 


300  MEJLuUJSTA  TAUTA. 

"churches" — a  kind  of  pagoda  instituted  for  the  worship  of  two 
idols  that  went  by  the  names  of  Wealth  and  Fashion.  In  the 
end,  it  is  said,  the  island  became,  nine-tenths  of  it,  church.  The 
women,  too,  it  appears,  were  oddly  deformed  by  a  natural  protu- 
berance of  the  region  just  below  the  small  of  the  back — although, 
most  unaccountably,  this  deformity  was  looked  upon  altogether 
in  the  light  of  a  beauty.  One  or  two  pictures  of  these  singular 
women  have,  in  fact,  been  miraculously  preserved.  They  look 
very  odd,  very — like  something  between  a  turkey-cock  and  a 
dromedary. 

Well,  these  few  details  are  nearly  all  that  have  descended  to 
us  respecting  the  ancient  Knickerbockers.  It  seems,  however, 
that  while  digging  in  the  centre  of  the  emperor's  garden,  (which, 
you  know,  covers  the  whole  island,)  some  of  the  workmen  un- 
earthed a  cubical  and  evidently  chisseled  block  of  granite,  weigh- 
ing several  hundred  pounds.  It  was  in  good  preservation, 
having  received,  apparently,  little  injury  from  the  convulsion 
which  entombed  it.  On  one  of  its  surfaces  was  a  marble  slab 
with  (only  think  of  it !)  an  inscription — a  legible  inscription. 
Pundit  is  in  ecstasies.  Upon  detaching  the  slab,  a  cavity  ap- 
peared, containing  a  leaden  box  filled  with  various  coins,  a  long 
scroll  of  names,  several  documents  which  appear  to  resemble 
newspapers,  with  other  matters  of  intense  interest  to  the  antiqua 
rian  !  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  all  these  are  genuine  Amric 
can  relics  belonging  to  the  tribe  called  Knickerbocker.  The 
papers  thrown  on  board  our  balloon  are  filled  with  fee-similes  of 
the  coins,  MSS.,  typography,  &c.  &c.  I  copy  for  your  amuse- 
ment the  Knickerbocker  inscription  on  the  marble  slab  : — 
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOQOOOCX 

This  Corner  Stone  of  a  Monument  to  the 

Memory  of 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 
^  was  laid  with  appropriate  ceremonies  on  the 

19TH  DAY  OF  OCTOBER,  1847, 
( |  the  anniversary  of  the  surrender  of 

Lord  Cornwallis 
to  General  Washington  at  Yorktown, 

A.  D.  1781, 

under  the  auspices  of  the 
Washington  Monument  Association  of  the 
I  city  of  New  York. 

) 


MELLONTA  TAUTA.  801 

This,  as  I  give  it,  is  a  verbatim  translation  done  bj  Pundit 
himself,  so  there  can  be  no  mistake  about  it  From  the  few 
words  thus  preserved,  we  glean  several  important  items  of  know- 
ledge, not  the  least  interesting  of  which  is  the  fact  that  a  thousand 
years  ago  actual  monuments  had  fallen  into  disuse — as  was  all 
very  proper — the  people  contenting  themselves,  as  we  do  now, 
with  a  mere  indication  of  the  design  to  erect  a  monument  at  some 
future  time  ;  a  corner-stone  being  cautiously  laid  by  itself  "  soli- 
tary and  alone"  (excuse  me  for  quoting  the  great  Amriccan 
poet  Benton  !)  as  a  guarantee  of  the  magnanimous  intention.  We 
ascertain,  too,  very  distinctly,  from  this  admirable  inscription,  the 
how,  as  well  as  the  where  and  the  what,  of  the  great  surrender 
in  question.  As  to  the  where,  it  was  Yorktown  (wherever  that 
was,  and  as  to  the  what,  it  was  General  Cornwallis  (no  doubt 
some  wealthy  dealer  in  corn).  He  was  surrendered.  The  in* 
scription  commemorates  the  surrender  of — what  ? — why,  "  of 
Lord  Coruwallis."  The  only  question  is  what  could  the  savages 
wish  him  surrendered  for.  But  when  we  remember  that  these 
savages  were  undoubtedly  cannibals,  we  are  led  to  the  conclusion 
that  they  intended  him  for  sausage.  As  to  the  how  of  the  sur- 
render, no  language  can  be  more  explicit.  Lord  Cornwallis  was 
surrendered  (for  sausage)  "  under  the  auspices  of  the  Washington 
Monument  Association" — no  doubt  a  charitable  institution  for 

the  depositing  of  corner-stones. But,  Heaven  bless  me  !  what 

is  the  matter?  Ah,  I  see — the  balloon  has  collapsed,  and  we 
shall  have  a  tumble  into  the  sea.  I  have,  therefore,  only  time 
enough  to  ndd  that,  from  a  hasty  inspection  of  the  fac-similes  of 
newspapers,  &c.  &c.,  I  find  that  the  great  men  in  those  days 
among  the  Amriccans,  were  one  John,  a  smith,  and  one  Zacchary, 
u  tailor. 

Good  bye,  until  I  see  you  again.  Whether  you  ever  get  this 
letter  or  not  is  a  point  of  little  importance,  as  I  write  altogether 
for  my  own  amusement.  I  shall  cork  the  MS.  up  in  a  bottle 
however,  and  throw  it  into  the  sea. 

Yours  everlastingly, 

PUNDTTA. 


LOSS  OF  BREATH. 

TALE  NEITHER  IN  NOR  OUT  OF  "  B  L  A  c  a:  w  3  o  DJ 


O  breathe  not,  &c.— MOORE'S  MELODIES. - 


THE  most  notorious  ill-fortune  must  in  the  end,  yield  to  the 
nntiring  courage  of  philosophy — as  the  most  stubborn  city  to  the 
ceaseless  vigilance  of  an  enemy.  Salmanezer,  as  we  have  it  in 
the  holy  writings,  lay  three  years  before  Samaria ;  yet  it  fell. 
Sardanapalus — see  Diodorus — maintained  himself  seven  in  Nine- 
veh ;  but  to  no  purpose.  Troy  expired  at  the  close  of  the  second 
lustrum ;  and  Azoth,  as  Aristseus  declares  upon  his  honor  as  a 
gentleman,  opened  at  last  her  gates  to  Psnmmitticus,  after 
having  barred  them  for  the  fifth  part  of  a  century.  *  *  * 

"  Thou  wretch  ! — thou  vixen  ! — thou  shrew  !"  said  I  to  my 
wife  on  the  morning  after  our  wedding,  "  thou  witch ! — thou 
hag! — thou  whipper-snapper! — thou  sink  of  iniquity! — thou 
fieiy-faced  quintessence  of  all  that  is  abominable  ! — thou — thou 
— "  here  standing  upon  tiptoe,  seizing  her  by  the  throat,  and 
placing  my  mouth  close  to  her  ear,  I  was  preparing  to  launch 
forth  a  new  and  more  decided  epithet  of  opprobrium,  which 
should  not  fail,  if  ejaculated,  to  convince  her  of  her  insignificance, 
when,  to  my  extreme  horror  and  astonishment,  I  discovered  that 
I  had  lost  my  breath. 

The  phrases  "  I  am  out  of  breath,"  "  I  have  lost  my  breath," 
&c.,  are  often  enough  repeated  in  common  conversation ;  but  it 
had  never  occurred  to  me  that  the  terrible  accident  of  which  I 
speak  could  bona  fide  and  actually  happen  !  Imagine — that  is  if 
you  have,  a  fanciful  turn — imagine,  I  say,  my  wonder — my  con- 
sternation— my  despair! 


LOSS  OF  BREATH.  303 

There  is  a  good  genius,  however,  which  has  never  entirely  de- 
serted me.  In  my  most  ungovernable  moods  I  still  retain  a 
sense  of  propriety,  et  le  chemn  des  passions  me  conduit — as 
Lord  Edouard  in  the  "Julie"  says  it  did  him — a  la  philosophie 
veritable. 

Although  I  could  not  at  first  precisely  ascertain  to  what  degree 
the  occurrence  had  affected  me,  I  determined  at  all  events  to 
conceal  the  matter  from  my  wife,  until  fui'ther  experience  should 
discover  to  me  the  extent  of  this  my  unheard  of  calamity.  Alter- 
ing my  countenance,  therefore,  in  a  moment,  from  its  bepuffed 
and  distorted  appearance,  to  an  expression  of  arch  and  coqeuttish 
benignity,  I  gave  my  lady  a  pat  on  the  one  cheek,  and  a  kiss  on 
the  other,  and  without  saying  one  syllable,  (Furies !  I  could  not), 
left  her  astonished  at  my  drollery,  as  I  pirouetted  out  of  the  room 
in  a  Pas  de  Zephyr. 

Behold  me  then  safely  ensconced  in  my  private  boudoir,  a 
fearful  instance  of  the  ill  consequences  attending  upon  irascibility 
• — alive,  with  the  qualifications  of  the  dead — dead,  with  the  pro- 
pensities of  the  living — an  anomoly  on  the  face  of  the  earth — 
being  very  calm,  yet  breathless. 

Yes  !  breathless.  I  am  serious  in  asserting  that  my  breath  was 
entirely  gone.  I  could  not  have  stirred  with  it  a  feather  if  my 
life  had  been  at  issue,  or  sullied  even  the  delicacy  of  a  mirror. 
Hard  fate ! — yet  there  was  some  alleviation  to  the  first  over- 
whelming paroxysm  of  my  sorrow.  I  found,  upon  trial,  that 
the  powers  of  utterance  which,  upon  my  inability  to  proceed  in 
the  conversation  with  my  wife,  I  then  concluded  to  be  totally 
destroyed,  were  in  fact  only  partially  impeded,  and  I  discovered 
that  had  I  at  that  interesting  crisis,  dropped  my  voice  to  a  sin- 
gularly deep  guttural,  I  might  still  have  continued  to  her  the 
communication  of  my  sentiments ;  this  pitch  of  voice  (the  gut- 
tural) depending,  I  find,  not  upon  the  current  of  the  breath,  but 
upon  a  certain  spasmodic  action  of  the  muscles  of  the  throat. 

Throwing  myself  upon  a  chair,  I  remained  for  some  time  ab- 
sorbed in  meditation.  My  reflections,  be  sure,  were  of  no  con- 
solatory kind.  A  thousand  vague  and  lachrymatory  fancies 
took  possession  of  my  soul — and  even  the  idea  of  suicide  flitted 
across  my  brain ;  but  it  is  a  trait  in  the  perversity  of  human 


304  LOSS  OF  BREATH. 

nature  to  reject  the  obvious  and  the  ready,  for  the  far-distant 
and  equivocal.  Thus  I  shuddered  at  self-murder  as  the  most 
decided  of  atrocities  while  the  tabby  cat  purred  strenuously  upon 
the  rug,  and  the  very  water-dog  wheezed  assiduously  under  the 
table ;  each  taking  to  itself  much  merit  for  the  strengtli  of  its 
lungs,  and  all  obviously  done  in  derision  of  my  own  pulmonary 
incapacity. 

Oppressed  with  a  tumult  of  vague  hopes  and  fears,  I  at  length 
heard  the  footsteps  of  my  wife  descending  the  staircase.  Being 
now  assured  of  her  absence,  I  returned  with  a  palpitating  heart 
to  the  scene  of  my  disaster. 

Carefully  locking  the  door  on  the  inside,  I  commenced  a  vigor- 
ous search.  It  was  possible,  I  thought  that,  concealed  in  some 
obscure  corner,  or  lurking  in  some  closet  or  drawer,  might  be 
found  the  lost  object  of  my  inquiry.  It  might  have  a  vapory — 
it  might  even  have  a  tangible  form.  Most  philosophers,  upon 
many  points  of  philosophy,  are  still  very  unphilosophical.  Wil- 
liam Godwin,  however,  says  in  his  "  Mandeville,"  that  "  invisible 
things  are  the  only  realities,"  and  this  all  will  allow,  is  a  case  in 
point.  I  would  have  the  judicious  reader  pause  before  accusing 
such  asseverations  of  an  undue  quantum  of  absurdity.  Anaxa- 
goras,  it  will  be  remembered,  maintained  that  snow  is  black,  and 
this  I  have  since  found  to  be  the  case. 

Long  and  earnestly  did  I  continue  the  investigation :  but  the 
contemptible  reward  of  my  industry  and  perseverance  proved  to 
be  only  a  set  of  false  teeth,  two  pair  of  hips,  an  eye,  and  a  bun- 
dle of  billetts-doux  from  Mr.  Wind  enough  to  my  wife.  I  might 
is  well  here  observe  that  this  confirmation  of  my  lady's  partiality 
or  Mr.  W.  occasioned  me  little  uneasiness.  That  Mrs.  Lacko- 
wreath  should  admire  anything  so  dissimilar  to  myself  was  a 
natural  and  necessary  evil.  I  am,  it  is 'well  known,  of  a  robust 
and  corpulent  appearance,  and  at  the  same  time  somewhat  dimin- 
utive in  stature.  What  wonder  then  that  the  lath-like  tenuity  of 
my  acquaintance,  and  his  altitude,  which  has  grown  into  a  prov- 
erb, should  have  met  with  all  due  estimation  in  the  eyes  of  Mrs. 
Lackobreath.  But  to  return. 

My  exertions,  as  I  have  before  said,  proved  fruitless.  Closet 
after  closet — drawer  after  drawer — corner  after  corner — w-ere 


LOSS   OF   BREATH.  305 

scrutinized  to  no  purpose.  At  one  time,  however,  I  thought 
myself  sure  of  my  prize,  having  in  rummaging  a  dressing-case, 
accidentally  demolished  a  bottle  of  Grandjean's  Oil  of  Archangels 
— which,  as  an  agreeable  perfume,  I  here  take  the  liberty  of 
recommending. 

With  a  heavy  heart  I  returned  to  my  boudoir — there  to  ponder 
upon  some  method  of  eluding  my  wife's  penetration,  until  I  could 
make  arrangements  prior  to  my  leaving  the  country,  for  to  this 
I  had  already  made  up  my  mind.  In  a  foreign  climate,  being 
unknown,  I  might,  with  some  probability  of  success,  endeavor 
to  conceal  my  unhappy  calamity — a  calamity  calculated,  even 
more  than  beggary,  to  estrange  the  affections  of  the  multitude, 
and  to  draw  down  upon  the  wretch  the  well-merited  indignation 
of  the  virtuous  and  the  happy.  I  was  not  long  in  hesitation.  Being 
naturally  quick,  I  committed  to  memory  the  entire  tragedy  of 
"  Metamora."  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  recollect  that  in  the  ac- 
centuation of  this  drama,  or  at  least  of  such  portion  of  it  as  is 
allotted  to  the  hero,  the  tones  of  voice  in  which  I  found  myself 
deficient  were  altogether  unnecessary,  and  that  the  deep  guttural 
was  expected  to  reign  monotonously  throughout. 

I  practised  for  some  time  by  the  borders  of  a  well  frequented 
marsh ; — herein,  however,  having  no  reference  to  a  similar  pro- 
ceeding of  Demosthenes,  but  from  a  design  peculiarly  and  con- 
scientiously my  own.  Thus  armed  at  all  points,  I  determined  to 
make  my  wife  believe  that  I  was  suddenly  smitten  with  a  pas 
sion  for  the  stage.  In  this,  I  succeeded  to  a  miracle ;  and  to 
every  question  or  suggestion  found  myself  at  liberty  to  reply  in 
my  most  frog-like  and  sepulchral  tones  with  some  passage  from 
the  tragedy — any  portion  of  which,  as  I  soon  took  great  pleasure 
in  observing,  would  apply  equally  well  to  any  particular  subject. 
It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  in  the  delivery  of  such 
passages  I  was  found  at  all  deficient  in  the  looking  asquint — the 
showing  my  teeth — the  working  my  knees — the  shuffling  my 
feet — or  in  any  of  those  unmentionable  graces  which  are  now 
justly  considered  the  characteristics  of  a  popular  performer. 
To  be  sure  they  spoke  of  confining  me  in  a  straight-jacket — 
but,  good  God !  they  never  suspected  me  of  having  lo&t  iny 
breath. 


306  LOSS  OF  BREATH. 

Having  at  length  put  my  affairs  in  order,  I  took  iriy  seat  verj 
early  one  morning  in  the  mail  stage  for ,  giving  it  to  be  un- 
derstood, among  my  acquaintances,  that  business  of  the  last  im- 
portance required  my  immediate  personal  attendance  in  that 
city. 

The  coach  was  crammed  to  repletion ;  but  in  the  uncertain 
twilight  the  features  of  my  companions  could  not  be  distinguished. 
Without  making  any  effectual  resistance,  I  suffered  myself  to  be 
placed  between  two  gentlemen  of  colossal  dimensions ;  while  •* 
third,  of  a  size  larger,  requesting  pardon  for  the  liberty  he  was 
about  to  take,  threw  himself  upon  my  body  at  full  length,  and 
falling  asleep  in  an  instant,  drowned  all  my  guttural  ejaculations 
for  relief,  in  a  snore  which  would  have  put  to  blush  the  roarings 
of  the  bull  of  Phalaris.  Happily  the  state  of  my  respiratory 
/acuities  rendered  suffocation  an  accident  entirely  out  of  the 
question. 

As,  however,  the  day  broke  more  distinctly  in  our  approach 
JT>  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  my  tormentor  arising  and  adjusting 
his  shirt-collar,  thanked  me  in  a  very  friendly  manner  for  my 
civility.  Seeing  that  I  remained  motionless,  (all  my  limbs  were 
dislocated  and  my  head  twisted  on  one  side,)  his  apprehensions 
began  to  be  excited ;  and  arousing  the  rest  of  the  passengers,  he 
communicated  in  a  very  decided  manner,  his  opinion  that  a  dead 
man  had  been  palmed  upon  them  during  the  night  for  a  living 
and  responsible  fellow-traveller ;  here  giving  me  a  thump  on  the 
right  eye,  by  way  of  demonstrating  the  truth  of  his  suggestion. 

Hereupon  all,  one  after  another,  (there  were  nine  in  company), 
believed  it  their  duty  to  pull  me  by  the  ear.  A  young  practising 
physician,  too,  having  applied  a  pocket-mirror  to  my  mouth,  and 
found  me  without  breath,  the  assertion  of  my  persecutor  was 
pronounced  a  true  bill ;  and  the  whole  party  expressed  a  deter- 
mination to  endure  tamely  no  such  impositions  for  the  futui'e,  and 
to  proceed  no  farther  with  any  such  carcasses  for  the  present. 

I  was  here,  accordingly,  thrown  out  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Crow," 
(by  which  tavern  the  coach  happened  to  be  passing,)  without 
meeting  with  any  farther  accident  than  the  breaking  of  both  my 
arms,  under  the  left  hind  wheel  of  the  vehicle.  I  must  besides 
do  the  driver  the  justice  to  state  that  he  did  not  forget  to  throw 


LOSS  OF  BREATH.  307 

after  me  the  largest  of  my  trunks,  which,  unfortunately  falling 
on  my  head,  fractured  my  skull  in  a  manner  at  once  interesting 
and  extraordinary. 

The  landlord  of  the  "  Crow,"  who  is  a  hospitable  man,  finding 
that  my  trunk  contained  sufficient  to  indemnify  him  for  any  little 
trouble  he  might  take  in  my  behalf,  sent  forthwith  for  a  surgeon 
of  his  acquaintance,  and  delivered  me  to  his  care  with  a  bill  and 
receipt  for  ten  dollars. 

The  purchaser  took  me  to  his  apartments  and  commenced 
operations  immediately.  Having  cut  off  my  ears,  however,  he 
discovered  signs  of  animation.  He  now  rang  the  bell,  and  sent 
for  a  neighboring  apothecary  with  whom  to  consult  in  the  emer- 
gency. In  case  of  his  suspicions  with  regard  to  my  existence 
proving  ultimately  correct,  he,  in  the  meantime,  made  an  incision 
in  my  stomach,  and  removed  several  of  my  viscera  for  private 
dissection. 

The  apothecary  had  an  idea  that  I  was  actually  dead.  This 
idea  I  endeavored  to  confute,  kicking  and  plunging  with  all  ray 
might,  and  making  the  most  furious  contortions — for  the  opera- 
tions of  the  surgeon  had,  in  a  measure,  restored  me  to  the  posses- 
sion of  my  faculties.  All,  however,  was  attributed  to  the  effects 
of  a  new  galvanic  battery,  wherewith  the  apothecary,  who  is 
really  a  man  of  information,  performed  several  curious  experi- 
ments, in  which,  from  my  personal  share  in  their  fulfilment,  I 
could  not  help  feeling  deeply  interested.  It  was  a  source  of 
mortification  to  me  neyertheless,  that  although  I  made  several 
attempts  at  conversation,  my  powers  of  speech  were  so  entirely  in 
abeyance,  that  I  could  not  even  open  my  mouth ;  much  less  then 
make  reply  to  some  ingenious  but  fanciful  theories  of  which,  un- 
der other  circumstances,  my  minute  acquaintance  with  the  Hip- 
pocratian  pathology  would  have  afforded  me  a  ready  confutation. 

Not  being  able  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion,  the  practitioners 
remanded  me  for  farther  examination.  I  was  taken  up  into  a 
garret ;  and  the  surgeon's  lady  having  accommodated  me  with 
drawers  and  stockings,  the  surgeon  himself  fastened  my  hands, 
and  tied  up  my  jaws  with  a  pocket  handkerchief — then  bolted 
the  door  on  the  outside  as  he  hurried  to  his  dinner,  leaving  me 
alone  to  silence  anil  to  meditation. 


308  LOSS  OF  BREATH. 

I  now  discovered  to  ray  extreme  delight  that  1  ;ould  have 
spoken  had  not  my  mouth  been  tied  up  by  the  pocket  handker- 
chief. Consoling  myself  with  this  reflection,  I  was  mentally  re- 
peating some  passages  of  the  "  Omnipresence  of  the  Deity,"  as 
is  my  custom  before  resigning  myself  to  sleep,  when  two  cats,  of 
a  greedy  and  vituperative  turn,  entering  at  a  hole  in  the  wall, 
leaped  up  with  a  flourish  a  la  Cataluni,  and  alighting  opposite 
one  another  on  my  visage,  betook  themselves  to  indecorous  con- 
tention for  the  paltry  consideration  of  my  nose. 

But,  as  the  loss  of  his  ears  proved  the  means  of  elevating  to 
the  throne  of  Cyrus,  the  Magian  or  Mige-Gush  of  Persia,  and  as 
the  cutting  off  his  nose  gave  Zopyrus  possession  of  Babylon,  so 
the  loss  of  a  few  ounces  of  my  countenance  proved  the  salvation 
of  my  body.  Aroused  by  the  pain,  and  burning  with  indignation, 
I  burst,  at  a  single  effort,  the  fastenings  and  the  bandage. — Stalk 
ing  across  the  room  I  cast  a  glance  of  contempt  at  the  belliger- 
ants,  and  throwing  open  the  sash  to  their  extreme  horror  and 
disappointment,  precipitated  myself,  very  dexterously,  from  the 
window. 

The  mail-robber  W ,  to  whom  I  bore  a  singular  resem- 
blance, was  at  this  moment  passing  from  the  city  jail  to  the 
scaffold  erected  for  his  execution  in  the  suburbs.  His  extreme1 
infirmity,  and  long  continued  ill  health,  had  obtained  him  the 
privilege  of  remaining  unmanacled ;  and  habited  in  his  gallows 
costume — one  very  similar  to  my  own — he  lay  at  full  length  in 
the  bottom  of  the  hangman's  cart  (which  happened  to  be  under 
the  windows  of  the  surgeon  at  the  moment  of  my  precipitation) 
without  any  other  guard  than  the  driver  who  was  asleep,  and  two 
recruits  of  the  sixth  infantry,  who  were  drunk. 

As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  I  alit  upon  my  feet  within  the  vehi- 
cle. W ,  who  was  an  acute  fellow,  perceived  his  opportu- 
nity. Leaping  up  immediately,  he  bolted  out  behind,  and 
turning  down  an  alley,  was  out  of  sight  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  The  recruits,  aroused  by  the  bustle,  could  not  exactly  com- 
prehend the  merits  of  the  transaction.  Seeing,  however,  a  man, 
the  precise  counterpart  of  the  felon,  standing  upright  in  the  cart 
before  their  eyes,  they  were  of  opinion  that  the  rascal  (meaning 
\\r .)  was  after  making  his  escape,  (so  they  expressed 


LOSS  OF  BREATH.  309 

themselves,)  and,  having  communicated  this  opinion  to  one 
another,  they  took  each  a  dram,  and  then  knocked  me  down  with 
the  butt-ends  of  their  muskets. 

It  was  not  long  ere  we  arrived  at  the  place  of  destination.  Of 
course  nothing  could  be  said  in  my  defence.  Hanging  was  my 
inevitable  fate.  I  resigned  myself  thereto  with  a  feeling  half 
stupid,  half  acrimonious.  Being  little  of  a  cynic,  I  had  all  the 
sentiments  of  a  dog.  The  hangman,  however,  adjusted  the  noose 
about  my  neck.  The  drop  fell. 

I  forbear  to  depict  my  sensations  upon  the  gallows ;  although 
here,  undoubtedly,  I  could  speak  to  the  point,  and  it  is  a  topic 
upon  which  nothing  has  been  well  said.  In  fact,  to  write  upon 
such  a  theme  it  is  necessary  to  have  been  hanged.  Every  author 
should  confine  himself  to  matters  of  experience.  Thus  Mark 
Antony  composed  a  treatise  upon  getting  drunk. 

I  may  just  mention,  however,  that  die  I  did  not.  My  body 
teas,  but  I  had  no  breath  to  le  suspended ;  and  but  for  the  knot 
under  my  left  ear  (which  had  the  feel  of  a  military  stock)  I  dare 
say  that  I  should  have  experienced  very  little  inconvenience. 
As  for  the  jerk  given  to  my  neck  upon  the  falling  of  the  drop,  it 
merely  proved  a  corrective  to  the  twist  afforded  me  by  the  fat 
gentleman  in  the  coach. 

For  good  reasons,  however,  I  did  my  best  to  give  the  crowd 
the  worth  of  their  trouble.  My  convulsions  were  said  to  be  ex- 
traordinary. My  spasms  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  beat. 
The  populace  encored.  Several  gentlemen  swooned ;  and  a  mul- 
titude of  ladies  were  carried  home  in  hysterics.  Pinxit  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunity  to  retouch,  from  ?>  sketch  taken  upon 
the  spot,  his  admirable  painting  of  the  "  Mavsyas  flayed  alive," 

When  I  had  afforded  sufficient  amusement,  it  was  thought 
proper  to  remove  my  body  from  the  gallows ; — this  the  more 
especially  as  the  real  culprit  had  in  the  meantime  been  retaken 
and  recognized;  a  fact  which  I  was  so  unlucky  as  not  to  know. 

Much  sympathy  was,  of  course  exercised  in  my  behalf,  and  as 
no  one  made  claim  to  my  corpse,  it  was  ordered  that  I  should  be 
interred  in  a  public  vault. 

Here,  after  due  interval,  I  wras  deposited.  The  sexton  depart 
edj  and  I  was  left  alone.  A  line  of  Mars  ton's  "  Malcontent'' — 


310  LOSS  OF  BREATH. 

Death's  a  good  fellow  and  keeps  open  house — 

struck  me  at  that  moment  as  a  palpable  lie. 

I  knocked  off,  however,  the  lid  of  my  coffin,  and  stepped  out. 
The  place  was  dreadfully  dreary  and  damp,  and  I  became  troubled 
with  ennui.  By  way  of  amusement,  I  felt  my  way  among  the 
numerous  coffins  ranged  in  order  around.  I  lifted  them  down, 
one  by  one.  and  breaking  open  their  lids,  busied  myself  in  specu- 
lations about  the  mortality  within. 

"  This,'"  I  soliloquized,  tumbling  over  a  carcass,  puffy,  bloatedj 
and  rotund — "  this  has  been,  no  doubt,  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
an  unhappy — an  unfortunate  man.  It  has  been  his  terrible  lot 
not  to  walk,  but  to  waddle — to  pass  through  life  not  like  a  human 
being,  but  like  an  elephant — not  like  a  man,  but  like  a  rhino- 
ceros. 

"  His  attempts  at  getting  on  have  been  mere  abortions,  and  his 
circumgyratory  proceedings  a  palpable  failure.  Taking  a  step 
forward,  it  has  been  his  misfortune  to  take  two  towards  the  right, 
and  three  towards  the  left.  His  studies  have  been  confined  to 
the  poetry  of  Crabbe.  He  can  have  had  no  idea  of  the  wonder 
of  a  pirouette.  To  him  a  pas  de  papitton  has  been  an  abstract 
conception.  He  has  never  ascended  the  summit  of  a  hill.  He 
has  never  viewed  from  any  steeple  the  glories  of  a  metropolis.. 
Heat  has  been  his  mortal  enemy.  In  the  dog-days  his  days  have 
been  the  days  of  a  dog.  Therein,  he  has  dreamed  of  flames  and 
suffocation — of  mountains  upon  mountains — of  Pelion  upon  Ossa. 
He  was  short  of  breath — to  say  all  in  a  word,  he  was  short  of 
breath.  He  thought  it  extravagant  to  play  upon  wind  instru- 
ments. He  was  the  inventor  of  self-moving  fans,  wind-sails,  and 
ventilators.  He  patronized  Du  Pont  the  bellows-maker,  and 
died  miserably  in  attempting  to  smoke  a  cigar.  His  was  a  case 
in  which  I  feel  a  deep  interest — a  lot  in  which  I  sincerely  sym- 
pathize. 

"  But  here," — said  I — "  here" — and  I  dragged  spitefully  from 
its  receptacle  a  gaunt,  tall,  and  peculiar-looking  form,  whose  re- 
markable appearance  struck  me  with  a  sense  of  unwelcome 
familiarity — "here  is  a  wretch  entitled  to  no  earthly  commisera- 
tion," Thus  saying,  in  order  to  obtain  a  more  distinct  view  of 


LOSS  OF  BREATH.  311 

my  subject,  I  applied  my  thumb  and  fore-finger  to  its  nose,  and 
causing  it  to  assume  a  sitting  position  upon  the.  ground,  held  it 
thus,  at  the  length  of  my  arm,  while  I  continued  my  soliloquy. 

— "  Entitled,"  I  repeated,  "  to  no  earthly  commiseration.  Who 
indeed  would  think  of  compassionating  a  shadow  ?  Besides,  has 
he  not  had  his  full  share  of  the  blessings  of  mortality  ?  He  was 
the  originator  of  tall  monuments — shot-towers — lightning-rods — 
lombardy  poplars.  His  treatise  upon  "  Shades  and  Shadows" 
has  immortalized  him.  He  edited  with  distinguished  ability  the 
last  edition  of  "  South  on  the  Bones."  He  went  early  to  college 
and  studied  pneumatics.  He  then  came  home,  talked  eternally, 
and  played  upon  the  French-horn.  He  patronized  the  bag-pipes, 
Captain  Barclay,  who  walked  against  Time,  would  not  walk 
against  him.  Windham  and  Allbreath  were  his  favorite  writers. 
— his  favorite  artist,  Phiz.  He  died  gloriously  while  inhaling 
gas — levique  flatu  corrupitor,  like  the  fama  pudicitice  in  Hiero- 
nymus.*  He  was  indubitably  a  " 

"  How  can  you  ? — how — can — you  ?" — interrupted  the  object 
of  my  animadversions,  gasping  for  breath,  and  tearing  off,  with  a 
desperate  exertion,  the  bandage  around  its  jaws — "  how  can  you, 
Mr.  Lackobreath,  be  so  infernally  cruel  as  to  pinch  me  in  that 
manner  by  the  nose  ?  Did  you  not  see  how  they  had  fastened 
up  my  mouth — and  you  must  know — if  you  know  anything — how 
vast  a  superfluity' of  breath  I  have  to  dispose  of!  If  you  do  not 
know,  however,  sit  down  and  you  shall  see. — In  my  situation  it 
is  really  a  great  relief  to  be  able  to  open  one's  mouth — to  be  able 
to  expatiate — to  be  able  to  communicate  with  a  person  like  your- 
self, who  do  not  think  yourself  called  upon  at  every  period  to 
interrupt  the  thread  of  a  gentleman's  discourse. — Interruptions 
are  annoying  and  should  undoubtedly  be  abolished — don't  you 
think  so  ? — no  reply,  I  beg  you, — one  person  is  enough  to  be 
speaking  at  a  time. — I  shall  be  done  by-and-by,  and  then  you 
may  begin. — How  the  devil,  sir,  did  you  get  into  this  place  ? — 
not  a  word  I  beseech  you — been  here  some  time  myself — terrible 
accident ! — heard  of  it,  I  suppose — awful  calamity  ! — walking 

*  Tenera  res  in  feminis  famas  pudicitice,  et  quasi  flos  pidchcrrimus,  ciu  id 
levem  marf.essit  auram,  levique  flatu  corrupitur,  maximc,  &c. — Hierouymus  ad 
Salvinam. 


312  LOSS  OF  BREATH. 

tinder  your  windows— some  short  while  ago — about  the  time  you 
were  stage-struck — horrible  occurrence  ! — heard  of  "  catchin« 

a 

one's  breath,"  eh  ? — hold  your  tongue  I  tell  you  ! — I  caught 
somebody  else's ! — had  always  too  much  of  my  own — met  Blab 
at  the  corner  of  the  street — would'nt  give  me  a  chance  for  a  word — > 
could'nt  get  in  a  syllable  edgeways — attacked,  consequently,  wilh 
epilepsis — Blab  made  his  escape — damn  all  fools  ! — they  took 
me  up  for  dead,  and  put  me  in  this  place — pretty  doings  all  of 
them  ! — heard  all  you  said  about  me — every  word  a  lie — horri- 
ble ! — wonderful ! — outrageous ! — hideous  ! — incomprehensible  ! — 
et  cetera — et  cetera — et  cetera — et  cetera — " 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  my  astonishment  at  so  unexpected 
a  discourse  ;  or  the  joy  with  which  I  became  gradually  convinced 
that  the  breath  so  fortunately  caught  by  the  gentleman  (whom  I 
soon  recognized  as  my  neighbor  Windenough)  was,  in  fact,  the 
identical  expiration  mislaid  by  myself  in  the  conversation  with 
my  wife.  Time,  place,  and  circumstance  rendered  it  a  matter 
beyond  question.  I  did  not,  however,  immediately  release  iny 
hold  upon  Mr.  W.'s  proboscis — not  at  least  during  the  long  period 
in  which  the  inventor  of  lombardy-poplars  continued  to  favor  me 
with  his  explanations. 

In  this  respect  I  was  actuated  by  that  habitual  prudence  which 
has  ever  been  my  predominating  trait.  I  reflected  that  many 
difficulties  might  still  lie  in  the  path  of  my  preservation  which 
only  extreme  exertion  on  my  part  would  be  able  to  surmount. 
Many  persons,  I  considered,  are  prone  to  estimate  commodities 
in  their  possession — however  valueless  to  the  then  proprietor — 
however  troublesome,  or  distressing — in  direct  ratio  with  the  ad- 
vantages to  be  derived  by  others  from  their  attainment,  or  by 
themselves  from  their  abandonment.  Might  not  this  be  the  case 
with  Mr.  Windenough?  In  displaying  anxiety  for  the  breath  of 
which  he  was  at  present  so  willing  to  get  rid,  might  I  not  lay 
myself  open  to  the  exactions  of  his  avarice  ?  There  are  scoun- 
drels in  this  world,  I  remembered  with  a  sigh,  who  will  not  scru- 
ple to  take  unfair  opportunities  with  even  a  next  door  neighbor, 
and  (this  remark  is  from  Epictetus)  it  is  precisely  at  that  time 
when  men  are  most  anxious  to  throw  off  the  burden  of  their  own 


LOSS  OF  DREATH  813 

calamities  that  they  feel  the  least  desirous  cf  relieving  them  in 
others. 

Upon  considerations  similai  to  these,  and  still  retaining  my 
grasp  upon  the  nose  of  Mr.  W.,  I  accordingly  thought  proper  to 
model  my  reply. 

"  Monster  !"  I  began  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  indignation, 
"  monster ;  and  double-winded  idiot ! — dost  t/iou,  whom  for  thine 
iniquities,  it  has  pleased  heaven  to  accurse  with  a  two-fold  respi- 
ration— dost  thou,  I  say,  presume  to  address  me  in  the  familiar 
language  of  an  old  acquaintance? — "  I  lie,"  forsooth!  and  "hold 
my  tongue,"  to  be  sure  ! — pretty  conversation  indeed,  to  a  gen- 
tleman with  a  single  breath  ! — all  this,  too,  when  I  have  it  in  my 
power  to  relieve  the  calamity  under  which  thou  dost  so  justly 
suffer — to  curtail  the  superfluities  of  thine  unhappy  respiration." 

Like  Brutus,  I  paused  for  a  reply — with  which,  like  a  tornado. 
Mr.  Windenough  immediately  overwhelmed  me.  Protestation 
followed  upon  protestation,  and  apology  upon  apology.  There 
were  no  terms  with  which  he  was  unwilling  to  comply,  and  there 
were  none  of  which  I  failed  to  take  the  fullest  advantage. 

Preliminaries  being  at  length  arranged,  my  acquaintance  de- 
livered me  the  respiration ;  for  which  (having  carefully  exam- 
ined it)  I  gave  him  afterwards  a  receipt. 

I  am  aware  that  by  many  I  shall  be  held  to  blame  for  speaking, 
in  a  manner  so  cursory,  of  a  transaction  so  impalpable.  It  will 
be  thought  that  I  should  have  entered  more  minutely  into  the 
details  of  an  occurrence  by  which — and  this  is  very  true — much 
new  light  might  be  thrown  upon  a  highly  interesting  branch  of 
physical  philosophy. 

To  all  this  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  reply.  A  hint  is  the  only 
answer  which  I  am  permitted  to  make.  There  were  circumstan- 
ces— but  I  think  it  much  safer  upon  consideration  to  say  as  little 
as  possible  about  an  affair  so  delicate — so  delicate,  I  repeat,  and 
and  at  the  time  involving  the  interests  of  a  third  party  whose 
sulphurous  resentment  I  have  not  the  least  desire,  at  this  moment, 
of  incurring.  . 

We  were  not  long  after  this  necessary  arrangement  in  effecting 
an  escape  from  the  dungeons  of  the  sepulchre.  The  united 
strength  of  our  resuscitated  voices  was  soon  sufficiently  apparent 


3U  LOSS  OF   BREATH. 

Scissors,  the  Whig  Editor,  republished  a  treatise  upon  "the  na- 
ture and  origin  of  subterranean  noises."  A  reply — rejoin- 
der— confutation — and  justification — followed  in  the  columns  of  a 
Democratic  Gazette.  It  was  not  until  the  opening  of  the  vault  to 
decide  the  controversy,  that  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Windenough 
and  myself  proved  both  parties  to  have  been  decidedly  in  the 
wrong. 

I  cannot  conclude  these  details  of  some  very  singular  passages 
in  a  life  at  all  times  sufficiently  eventful,  without  again  recalling 
to  the  attention  of  the  reader  the  merits  of  that  indiscriminate 
philosophy  which  is  a  sure  and  ready  shield  against  those  shafts  of 
calamity  which  can  neither  be  seen,  felt,  nor  fully  understood. 
It  was  in  the  spirit  of  this  wisdom  that,  among  the  Ancient  He- 
brews, it  was  believed  the  gates  of  Heaven  would  be  inevitably 
opened  to  that  sinner,  or  saint,  who,  with  good  lungs  and  implicit 
confidence,  should  vociferate  the  word  "  Amen!"  It  was  in  the 
spirit  cf  this  wisdom  that,  when  a  great  plague  raged  at  Athens, 
and  every  means  had  been  in  vain  attempted  for  its  removal, 
Epimenides,  as  Laertius  relates  in  his  second  book  of  that  phi- 
losopher, advised  the  erection  of  a  shrine  and  temple  "  to  the  pro- 
per God/* 

LYTTLETON  BARRY. 


THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP. 

A     TALE     OF    THE     LATE     BUGABOO     AND     KICKAPOO     CAMPAIGN 


Pleurez,  pleurei,  mes  yeux,  etfondei  vous  en  caul 

La  moitie  de  ma  vie  a  mis  I'  autre  an  tumbcau..        CORNKILLK. 


I  CANNOT  just  now  remember  when  or  where  I  first  made 
the  acquaintance  of  that  truly  fine-looking  fellow,  Brevet 
Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith.  Some  one  did  in- 
troduce me  to  the  gentleman,  I  am  sure — at  some  public  meeting, 
1  know  very  well — held  about  something  of  great  importance,  no 
doubt — at  some  place  or  other,  I  feel  convinced, — whose  name  I 
have  unaccountably  forgotten.  The  truth  is — that  the  introduc- 
tion was  attended,  upon  my  part,  with  a  degree  of  anxious  embar- 
rassment which  operated  to  prevent  any  definite  impressions  of 
either  time  or  place.  I  am  constitutionally  nervous — this,  with 
me,  is  a  family  failing,  and  I  can't  help  it.  In  especial,  the 
slightest  appearance  of  mystery — of  any  point  I  cannot  exactly 
comprehend — puts  me  at  once  into  a  pitiable  state  of  agitation. 

There  was  something,  as  it  were,  remarkable — yes,  remarkable, 
although  this  is  but  a  feeble  term  to  express  my  full  meaning — 
about  the  entire  individuality  of  the  personage  in  question.  He 
was,  perhaps,  six  feet  in  height  and  of  a  presence  singularly 
commanding.  There  was  an  air  distingue  pervading  the  whole 
man,  which  spoke  of  high  breeding,  and  hinted  at  high  birth. 
Upon  this  topic — the  topic  of  Smith's  personal  appearance — 1 
have  a  kind  of  melancholy  satisfaction  in  being  minute.  His 
head  of  hair  would  have  done  honor  to  a  Brutus  ; — nothing 
could  be  more  richly  flowing,  or  possess  a  brighter  gloss.  I: 
vvas  of  a  jetty  black  ; — which  was  also  the  color,  or  more 


310  THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  L'P. 

properly  the  no  color,  of  his  unimaginable  whiskers.  You 
perceive  I  cannot  speak  of  these  latter  without  enthusiasm ,  it  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  they  were  the  handsomest  pair  of 
whiskers  under  the  sun.  At  all  events,  they  encircled,  and  at 
times  partially  overshadowed,  a  mouth  utterly  unequalled.  Here 
were  the  most  entirely  even,  and  the  most  brilliantly  white  of 
all  conceivable  teeth.  From  between  them,  upon  every  proper 
occasion,  issued  a  voice  of  surpassing  clearness,  melody,  and 
strength.  In  the  matter  of  eyes,  also,  my  acquaintance  was 
pre-eminently  endowed.  Either  one  of  such  a  pair  was  worth  a 
couple  of  the  ordinary  ocular  organs.  They  were  of  a  deep 
hazel,  exceedingly  large  and  lustrous  ;  and  there  was  perceptible 
about  them,  ever  and  anon,  just  that  amount  of  interesting 
obliquity  which  gives  pregnancy  to  expression. 

The  bust  of  the  General  was  unquestionably  the  finest  bust  I 
ever  saw.  For  your  life  you  could  not  have  found  a  fault  with 
il.«  wonderful  proportion.  This  rare  peculiarity  set  off  to  great 
advantage  a  pair  of  shoulders  which  would  have  called  up  a 
blut'.h  of  conscious  inferiority  into  the  countenance  of  the  marble 
Apollo.  I  have  a  passion  for  fine  shoulders,  and  may  say  that  T 
never  beheld  them  in  perfection  before.  The  arms  altogether 
were  admirably  modelled.  Nor  were  the  lower  limbs  less 
superb.  These  were,  indeed,  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  good  legs. 
Every  connoisseur  in  such  matters  admitted  the  legs  to  be  good. 
There  was  neither  too  much  flesh,  nor  too  little, — neither  rude- 
ness nor  fragility.  I  could  not  imagine  a  more  graceful  curve 
than  that  of  the  os  femoris,  and  there  was  just  that  due  gentle 
prominence  in  the  rear  of  the  fibula  which  goes  to  the  conforma- 
tion of  a  properly  proportioned  calf.  I  wish  to  God  my  young 
and  talented  friend  Chiponchipino,  the  sculptor  had  but  seen  the 
legs  of  Brevet  Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith. 

But  although  men  so  absolutely  fine-looking  are  neither  a.s 
plenty  as  reasons  or  blackberries,  still  I  could  not  bring  myself 
to  believe  that  the  remarkable  something  to  which  I  alluded  just 
now, — that  the  odd  air  of  je  ne  sais  quoi  which  hung  about  my 
new  acquaintance, — lay  altogether,  or  indeed  at  all,  in  the 
supreme  excellence  of  his  bodily  endowments.  Perhaps  it  might 
be  traced  to  the  manner  ; — yet  here  again  I  could  not  pretend  to 


THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP.  317 

be  positive.  There  was  a  primness,  not  to  say  stiffness,  in  hia 
carriage — a  degree  of  measured,  and,  if  1  may  so  express  it,  of 
rectangular  precision,  attending  his  every  movement,  which, 
observed  in  a  more  diminutive  figure,  would  have  had  the  least 
little  savor  in  the  world,  of  affectation,  pomposity  or  constraint, 
but  which  noticed  in  a  gentleman  of  his  undoubted  dimensions, 
was  readily  placed  to  the  account  of  reserve,  hauteur — of  a 
commendable  sense,  in  short,  of  what  is  due  to  the  dignity  of 
colossal  proportion. 

The  kind  friend  who  presented  me  to  General  Smith  whis- 
pered in  my  ear  some  few  words  of  comment  upon  the  man. 
He  was  a  remarkable  man — a  very  remarkable  man — indeed  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  age.  He  was  an  especial 
favorite,  too,  with  the  ladies — chiefly  on  account  of  his  high 
reputation  for  courage. 

"  In  that  point  he  is  unrivalled — indeed  he  is  a  perfect 
desperado — a  down-right  fire-eater,  and  no  mistake,"  said  my 
friend,  here  dropping  his  voice  excessively  low,  and  thrilling  me 
with  the  mystery  of  his  tone. 

"  A  downright  fire-eater,  and  no  mistake.  Showed  that,  1 
should  say,  to  some  purpose,  in  the  late  tremendous  swa.mp-figh' 
away  down  South,  with  the  Bugaboo  and  Kickapco  Indians." 
[Here  my  friend  opened  his  eyes  to  some  extent.]  "  Bless  my 
soul ! — blood  and  thunder,  and  all  that ! — -prodigies  of  valor  I—- 
heard of  him  of  course  ? — you  know  he's  the  man" 

"  Man  alive,  how  do  you  do  ?  why  how  are  ye  ?  very  glad  to 
see  ye,  indeed  !"  here  interrupted  the  General  himself,  seizing 
my  companion  by  the  hand  as  he  drew  near,  and  bowing  stiffly 
but  profoundly,  as  I  was  presented.  1  then  thought,  (and  I 
think  so  still,)  ',hat  I  never  heard  a  clearer  nor  a  stronger  voice 
nor  beheld  a  finer  set  of  teeth :  but  I  must  say  that  I  was  sorry 
for  the  interruption  just  at  that  moment,  as,  owing  to  the 
whispers  and  insinuations  aforesaid,  my  interest  had  beer, 
greatly  excited  in  the  hero  of  the  Bugaboo  and  Kickapoc 
campaign. 

However,  the  delightfully  luminous  conversation  of  BreveJ 
Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith  soon  completely  di.s' 
sipated  this  chagrin.  My  friend  leaving  us  immediately,  we  had 


318  THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP 

quite  a  long  tete-a-tete,  and  I  was  not  only  pleased  but  really-* 
instructed.  I  never  heard  a  more  fluent  talker,  or  a  man  of 
greater  general  information.  With  becoming  modesty,  he 
forebore,  nevertheless,  to  touch  upon  the  theme  I  had  just  then 
most  at  heart — I  mean  the  mysterious  circumstances  attending 
the  Bugaboo  war — and,  on  my  own  part,  what  I  conceive  to  be 
a  proper  sense  of  delicacy  forbade  me  to  broach  the  subject ; 
although,  in  truth,  I  was  exceedingly  tempted  to  do  so.  I 
perceived,  too,  that  the  gallant  soldier  preferred  topics  of 
philosophical  interest,  and  that  he  delighted,  especially  in  com- 
menting  upon  the  rapid  march  of  mechanical  invention.  Indeed, 
lead  him  where  I  would,  this  was  a  point  to  which  he  invariably 
came  back. 

"  There  is  nothing  at  all  like  it,"  he  would  say  ;  "  we  are  a 
wonderful  people,  and  live  in  a  wonderful  age.  Parachutes  and 
rail-roads — man-traps  and  spring-guns  !  Our  steam-boats  are 
upon  every  sea,  and  the  Nassau  balloon  packet  is  about  to  run 
regular  trips  (fare  either  way  only  twenty  pounds  sterling) 
between  London  and  Timbuctoo.  And  who  shall  calculate  the 
immense  influence  upon  social  life — upon  arts — upon  commerce 
-^upon  literature — which  will  be  the  immediate  result  of  the 
gr'.at  principles  of  electro  magnetics!  Nor,  is  this  all,  let  me 
assure  you !  There  is  really  no  end  to  the  march  of  invention. 
The  most  wonderful — the  most  ingenious — and  let  me  add,  Mr. 
— Mr. — Thompson,  I  believe,  is  your  name — let  me  add,  I  say 
\he  most  useful — the  most  truly  useful  mechanical  contrivances, 
are  daily  springing  up  like  mushrooms,  if  I  may  so  express 
myself,  or,  more  figuratively,  like — ah — grasshoppers — like 
grasshoppers,  Mr.  Thompson — about  us  and  ah — ah — ah — 
around  us !" 

Thompson,  to  be  sure,  is  not  my  name ;  but  it  is  needless  to 
say  that  I  left  General  Smith  with  a  heightened  interest  in  the 
man,  with  an  exalted  opinion  of  his  conversational  powers,  and  a 
tleep  sense  of  the  valuable  privileges  we  enjoy  in  living  in  this 
age  of  mechanical  invention.  My  curiosity,  however,  had  not 
beer?,  altogether  satisfied,  and  I  resolved  to  prosecute  immediate 
inquiry  among  my  acquaintances  touching  the  Brevet  Brigadier 
General  himself,  and  particularly  respecting  the  tremendo.  . 


THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP.  :j!9 

events  cpwrum  pars  magnafuit,  during  the  Bugaboo  and  Kicka- 
poo  campaign. 

ThQ  first  opportunity  »vhich  presented  itself,  and  which  (hor~ 
resco  rejerens)  I  did  not  in  the  least  scruple  to  seize,  occurred 
at  the  Church  of  the  Reverend  Doctor  Drummummupp,  where 
I  found  myself  established,  one  Sunday,  just  at  sermon  time,  not 
only  in  the  pew,  but  by  the  side,  of  that  worthy  and  communica- 
tive little  friend  of  mine,  Miss  Tabitha  T.  Thus  seated,  I  con- 
gratulated myself,  and  with  much  reason,  upon  the  very  flatter- 
ing state  of  affairs.  If  any  person  knew  anything  about  Brevet 
Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith,  that  person,  it  was  clear 
to  me,  was  Miss  Tabitha  T.  We  telegraphed  a  few  signals, 
and  then  commenced,  sotto  voce,  a  brisk  tete-a-tete. 

"Smith!"  said  she,  in  reply  to  my  very  earnest  inquiry; 
"  Smith  ! — why,  not  General  John  A.  B.  C.  ?  Bless  me,  I 
thought  you  knew  all  about  him  !  This  is  a  wonderfully  inven- 
tive age !  Horrid  affair  that ! — a  bloody  set  of  wretches,  those 
Kickapoos  ! — fought  like  a  hero — prodigies  of  valor — immortal 
renown.  Smith  ! — Brevet  Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C. ! 
— why,  you  know  he's  the  man" — 

"  Man,"  here  broke  in  Doctor  Drummummupp,  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  and  with  a  thump  that  came  near  knocking  the  pulpit 
about  our  ears ;  "  man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  hath  but  a  short 
time  to  live  ;  he  cometh  up  and  is  cut  down  like  a  flower  !"  I 
started  to  the  extremity  of  the  pew,  and  perceived  by  the  ani- 
mated looks  of  the  divine,  that  the  wrath  which  had  nearly 
proved  fatal  to  the  pulpit  had  been  excited  by  the  whispers  of 
the  lady  and  myself.  There  was  no  help  for  it;  so  I  submitted 
with  a  good  grace,  and  listened,  in  all  the  martyrdom  of  dignified 
silence,  to  the  balance  of  that  very  capital  discourse. 

Next  evening  found  me  a  somewhat  late  visitor  at  the  Ranti- 
pole  theatre,  where  I  felt  sure  of  satisfying  my  curiosity  at  once, 
by  merely  stepping  into  the  box  of  those  exquisite  specimens  of 
affability  and  omniscience,  the  Misses  Arabelli  and  Miranda 
Cognoscenti.  That  fine  tragedian,  Climax,  was  doing  lago  to  a 
very  crowded  house,  and  I  experienced  some  little  difficulty  in 
making  my  wishes  understood ;  especially,  as  our  box  was  next 
the  slips,  and  completely  overlooked  the  stage. 


320  THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP. 

"  Smith  ?  "  said  Miss  Arabella,  as  she  at  length  comprehended 
the  purport  of  my  query ;  "  Smith  ? — why,  not  General  John 

A.  B.  a?" 

"  Smith  ?  "  inquired  Miranda,  musingly.  "  God  bless  me,  did 
you  ever  behold  a  finer  figure  ?" 

"  Never,  madam,  but  do  tell  me" 

"Or  so  inimitable  grace?" 

"  Never,  upon  my  word  ! — but  pray  inform  me" 

"Or  so  just  an  appreciation  of  stage  effect?" 

"Madam!" 

"  Or  a  more  delicate  sense  of  the  true  beauties  of  Shakes* 
peare  ?  Be  so  good  as  to  look  at  that  leg  ! " 

"  The  devil ! "  and  I  turned  again  to  her  sister. 

"Smith?"  said  she,  "why,  not  General  John  A.  B.  C.  ? 
Horrid  affair  that,  wasn't  it  ? — great  wretches,  those  Bugaboos — 
savage  and  so  on — but  we  live  in  a  wonderfully  inventive  age ! 
—Smith  ! — 0  yes  !  great  man  ! — perfect  desperado — immortal 
renown — prodigies  of  valor!  Never  heard!"  [This  was  given 
in  a  scream.]  "  Bless  my  soul ! — why,  he's  the  man" 

" mandragora 

Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world 
Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  thou  owd'st  yesterday  !" 

here  roared  out  Climax  just  in  my  ear,  and  shaking  his  fist  in 
my  face  all  the  time,  in  a  way  that  I  couldn't  stand,  and  I  ivouldn't. 
I  left  the  Misses  Cognoscenti  immediately,  went  behind  the 
scenes  forthwith,  and  gave  the  beggarly  scoundrel  such  a  thrash- 
ing as  I  trust  he  will  remember  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

At  the  soiree  of  the  lovely  widow,  Mrs.  Kathleen  O'Trump,  I 
was  confident  that  I  should  meet  with  no  similar  disappointment. 
Accordingly,  I  was  no  sooner  seated  at  the  card-table,  with  my 
pretty  hostess  for  a  vis-a-vis,  than  I  propounded  those  questions 
the  solution  of  which  had  become  a  matter  so  essential  to  my 
peace. 

"  Smith  ?"  said  my  partner,  "  why,  not  General  John  A.  B.  C.  ? 
Horrid  affair  that,  wasn't  it  ? — diamonds,  did  you  say  ? — terrible 
wretches  those  Kinkapoos  ! — we  are  playing  ivhist,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Tattle — howe<  :r,  this  is  the  age  of  invention,  most  certainly 


THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP.  331 

the  age.  one  may  say — the  age  par  excellence — speak  French  ?— 
oh,  quite  a  hero — perfect  desperado  ! — no  hearts,  Mr.  Tattle  ?  I 
don't  believe  it ! — immortal  renown  and  all  that — prodigies  of 
valor!  Never  heard! ! — why,  bless  me,  he's  the  man" 

"  Mann  ? —  Captain  Mann  ?  "  here  screamed  some  little  femi- 
nine interloper  from  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room.  "  Are  you 
talking  about  Captain  Mann  and  the  duel  ? — oh,  I  must  hear — do 
tell — go  on,  Mrs.  O'Trump  ! — do  now  go  on  ! "  And  go  on  Mrs. 
O'Trump  did — all  about  a  certain  Captain  Mann,  who  was  either 
shot  or  hung,  or  should  have  been  both  shot  and  hung.  Yes! 
Mrs.  O'Trump,  she  went  on,  and  I — I  went  off.  There  was  no 
chance  of  hearing  anything  farther  that  evening  in  regard  to 
Brevet  Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith. 

Still  I  consoled  myself  with  the  reflection  that  the  tide  of  ill 
luck  would  not  run  against  me  forever,  and  so  determined  to 
make  a  bold  push  for  information  at  the  rout  of  that  bewitching 
little  angel,  the  graceful  Mrs.  Pirouette. 

"  Smith  ?  "  said  Mrs.  P.,  as  we  twirled  about  together  in  a  pas 
de  zephyr,  "  Smith  ? — why  not  General  John  A.  B.  C.  ?  Dread- 
ful business  that  of  the  Bugaboos,  wasn't  it  ? — terrible  creatures, 
those  Indians ! — do  turn  out  your  toes  !  I  really  am  ashamed 
of  you — man  of  great  courage,  poor  fellow  ! — but  this  is  a  won 
derful  age  for  invention — O  dear  me,  I'm  out  of  breath — quite  a 
desperado — prodigies  of  valor — never  heard!  ! — can't  believe  it 
— I  shall  have  to  sit  down  and  enlighten  you — Smith !  why,  he's 
*he  man" 

•l  Man-Fred,  I  tell  you!"  here  bawled  out  Miss  Bas-Bleu,  as 
I  lea  Mrs.  Pirouette  to  a  seat.  "  Did  ever  anybody  hear  the 
like  ?  It's  Man-Fred,  I  say,  and  not  at  all  by  any  means  Man- 
Friday."  Here  Miss  Bas-Bleu  beckoned  to  me  in  a  very  per- 
emptory manner ;  and  I  was  obliged,  will  I  nill  I,  to  leave  Mrs. 
P.  for  the  purpose  of  deciding  a  dispute  touching  the  title  of  a 
certain  poetical  drama  of  Lord  Byron's.  Although  I  pronounced, 
with  great  promptness,  that  the  true  title  was  Man-Friday,  and 
not  by  any  means  Man-Fred,  yet  when  I  returned  to  seek  Mrs. 
Pirouette  she  was  not  .to  be  discovered,  and  I  made  my  retreat 
from  the  house  in  a  very  bitter  spirit  of  animosity  against  ttw 
whole  race  of  the  Bas-Bleus- 


322  THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP. 

Matters  had  now  assumed  a  really  serious  aspect,  and  I  resolv- 
ed to  ca.l  at  once  upon  my  particular  friend,  Mr.  Theodore  Sini- 
vate ;  for  I  knew  that  here  at  least  I  should  get  something  like 
definite  information. 

"  Smith  ?  "  said  he,  in  his  well-known  peculiar  way  of  dra\\  1- 
in~  out  his  syllables  ;  "  Smith  ? — why,  not  General  John  A  .  B 
C.  ?  Savage  affair  that  with  the  Kickapo-o-o-os,  wasn't  it  ? 
Say  don't  you  think  so  ? — perfect  despera-a-ado — great  pity, 
pon  my  honor  ! — wonderfully  inventive  age  ! — pro-o-odigies  of 
valor !  By  the  by,  did  you  ever  hear  about  Captain  Ma-a-a-a-n  ?" 

"  Captain  Mann  be  d — d  ! "  said  I,  "  please  to  go  on  with  your 
story." 

"  Hem ! — oh  well ! — quite  la  meme  cho-o-ose,  as  we  say  in 
France.  Smith,  eh  ?  Brigadier  General  John  A — B — C.  ?  I 
say" — [here  Mr.  S.  thought  proper  to  put  his  linger  to  the  side 
of  his  nose] — "  I  say,  you  don't  mean  to  insinuate  now,  really 
and  truly,  and  conscientiously,  that  you  don't  know  all  about  that 
affair  of  Smith's,  as  well  as  I  do,  eh  ?  Smith  ?  John  A — B — C.  ? 
Why,  bless  me,  he's  the  ma-a-an" 

"  Mr.  Sinivate,"  said  I,  imploringly,  "  is  he  the  man  in  the 
mask?" 

"  No-o-o !"  said  he,  looking  wise,  "  nor  the  man  in  the  mo-o-on.'' 

This  reply  I  considered  a  pointed  and  positive  insult,  and  so 
left  the  house  at  once  in  high  dudgeon,  with  a  fii'm  resolve  to  call 
my  friend,  Mr.  Sinivate,  to  a  speedy  account  for  his  ungentle- 
manly  conduct  and  ill-breeding. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  I  had  no  notion  of  being  thwarted 
touching  the  information  I  desired.  There  was  one  resource  left 
me  yet.  I  would  go  to  the  fountain-head.  I  would  call  forth- 
with upon  the  General  himself,  and  demand,  in  explicit  terms,  a 
solution  of  this  abominable  piece  of  mystery.  Here,  at  least, 
there  should  be  no  chance  for  equivocation.  I  would  be  plain, 
positive,  peremptory — as  short  as  pie-crust — as  concise  as  Taci 
tus  or  Montesquieu. 

It  was  early  when  I  called,  and  the  General  was  dressing  • 
but  I  pleaded  urgent  business,  and  was  shown  at  once  into  his 
bed-room  by  an  old  negro  valet,  who  remained  in  attendance 
during  my  visit.  As  I  entered  the  chamber,  I  looked  about,  of 


THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP.  323 

course,  for  the  occupant,  but  did  not  immediately  perceive  him. 
There  was  a  large  and  exceedingly  odd-looking  bundle  of  some- 
thing which  lay  close  by  my  feet  on  the  floor,  and,  as  I  was  not 
hi  the  best  humor  in  the  world,  I  gave  it  a  kick  out  of  the  way. 

"  Hem  !  ahem  !  rather  civil  that,  I  should  say  !"  said  the  bun- 
dle, in  one  of  the  smallest,  and  altogether  the  funniest  little 
voices,  between  a  squeak  and  a  whistle,  that  I  ever  heard  in  all 
the  days  of  my  existence. 

"  Ahem  !  rather  civil  that,  I  should  observe." 

I  fairly  shouted  with  terror,  and  made  off,  at  a  tangent,  into 
the  farthest  extremity  of  the  room. 

"  God  bless  me  !  my  dear  fellow,"  here  again  whistled  the 
bundle,  "  what — what — what — why,  what  is  the  matter  ?  I 
really  believe  you  don't  know  me  at  all." 

What  could  I  say  to  all  this — what  could  I  ?  I  staggered  into 
an  arm-chair,  and,  with  staring  eyes  and  open  mouth,  awaited 
the  solution  of  the  wonder. 

"  Strange  you  shouldn't  know  me  though,  isn't  it  ?"  presently 
re-squeaked  the  nondescript,  which  I  now  perceived  was  per- 
performing,  upon  the  floor,  some  inexplicable  evolution,  very 
analagous  to  the  drawing  on  of  a  stocking.  There  was  only  a 
single  leg,  however,  apparent. 

"  Strange  you  shouldn't  know  me,  though,  isn't  it  ?  Pornpey, 
bring  me  that  leg  !"  Here  Pompey  handed  the  bundle,  a  very 
capital  cork  leg,  already  dressed,  which  it  screwed  on  in  a  trice  ; 
and  then  it  stood  up  before  my  eyes. 

"  And  a  bloody  action  it  was"  continued  the  thing,  as  if  in  a 
soliloquy ;  "  but  then  one  musn't  fight  with  the  Bugaboos  and 
Kickapoos,  and  think  of  coining  off  with  a  mere  scratch.  Pom- 
pey, I'll  thank  you  now  for  that  arm.  Thomas''  [turning  to  me] 
"  is  decidedly  the  best  hand  at  a  cork  leg ;  but  if  you  should 
ever  want  an  arm,  my  dear  fellow,  you  must  really  let  nie 
recommend  you  to  Bishop."  Here  Pompey  screwed  on  an  arm 

"  We  had  rather  hot  work  of  it,  that  you  may  say.  Now,  you 
3og,  slip  on  my  shoulders  and  bosom !  Pettitt  makes  the  best 
shoulders,  but  for  a  bosom  you  will  have  to  go  to  Ducrow." 

"  Bosom  !"  said  I. 

"  Pompey,  will  you  never  be  ready  with  that  wig  ?     Scalping 


324  THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP. 

ri  a  rough  process  after  all;  but  then  you  can  procure  such 
capital  scratch  at  De  L'Orme's." 

"  Scratch !" 

"  Now,  you  nigger,  my  teeth !  For  a  good  set  of  these  you 
had  better  go  to  Family's  at  once ;  high  prices,  but  excellent 
work.  I  swallowed  some  very  capital  articles,  though,  when 
the  big  Bugaboo  rammed  me  down  with  the  but  end  of  his 
rifle." 

"  Butt  end !  ram  down ! !  my  eye  ! ! " 

"  O  yes,  by-the-by,  my  eye — here,  Pompey,  you  scamp,  screw 
it  in  !  Those  Kickapoos  are  not  so  very  slow  at  a  gouge ;  but 
he's  a  belied  man,  that  Dr.  Williams,  after  all ;  you  can't  im- 
agine how  well  I  see  with  the  eyes  of  his  make." 

I  now  began  very  clearly  to  perceive  that  the  object  before  me 
was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  my  new  acquaintance.  Brevet 
Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith.  The  manipulations  of 
Pompey  had  made,  I  must  confess,  a  very  striking  difference  in 
the  appearance  of  the  personal  man.  The  voice,  however,  still 
puzzled  me  no  little ;  but  even  this  apparent  mystery  was  speed- 
ily cleared  up. 

"  Pompey,  you  black  rascal,"  squeaked  the  General,  "  I  really 
do  believe  you  would  let  me  go  out  without  my  palate." 

Hereupon  the  negro,  grumbling  out  an  apology,  went  up  to  his 
master,  opened  his  mouth  with  the  knowing  air  of  a  horse-jockey, 
and  adjusted  therein  a  somewhat  singular-looking  machine,  in  a 
very  dexterous  manner,  that  I  could  not  altogether  comprehend. 
The  alteration,  however,  in  the  entire  expression  of  the  General's 
countenance  was  instantaneous  and  surprising.  When  he  again 
spoke,  his  voice  had  resumed  all  that  rich  melody  and  strength 
which  I  had  noticed  upon  our  original  introduction. 

"  D — n  the  vagabonds  ! "  said  he,  in  so  clear  a  tone  that  I  posi- 
tively started  at  the  change,  "  D — n  the  vagabonds  !  they  not 
only  knocked  in  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  but  took  the  trouble  to 
cut  off  at  least  seven-eighths  of  my  tongue.  There  is'nt  Bon- 
fanti's  equal,  however,  in  America,  for  really  good  articles  of  this 
description.  I  can  recommend  you  to  him  with  confidence," 
[here  the  General  bowed,]  and  assure  you  *hat  1  have  the  great- 
est pleasure  in  so  doing." 


THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP.  325 

I  acknowledged  his  kindness  in  my  best  manner,  and  took  leave 
of  him  at  once,  with  a  perfect  understanding  of  the  true  state 
of  affairs — with  a  full  comprehension  of  the  mystery  which  had 
troubled  me  so  long.  It  was  evident.  It  was  a  clear  case.  Brevet 

Brigadier  General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith  was  the  man was 

the  man  that  was  used  up. 


THE  BUSINESS  MAN. 

Method  is  the  soul  of  business. — OLD  SATING. 

I  AM  a  business  man.  I  am  a  methodical  man.  Method  ia 
the  thing,  after  all.  But  there  are  no  people  I  more  heartily 
despise,  than  your  eccentric  fools  who  prate  about  method  with- 
out understanding  it ;  attending  strictly  to  its  letter,  and  violating 
its  spirit.  These  fellows  are  always  doing  the  most  out-of-the- 
way  things  in  what  they  call  an  orderly  manner.  Now  here — I 
conceive — is  a  positive  paradox.  True  method  appertains  to  the 
ordinary  and  the  obvious  alone,  and  cannot  be  applied  to  the 
outre.  What  definite  idea  can  a  body  attach  to  such  expressions 
as  "  methodical  Jack  o'  Dandy,"  or  "  a  systematical  Will  o'  the 
Wisp  ?"  . 

My  notions  upon  this  head  might  not  have  been  so  clear  as  they 
are,  but  for  a  fortunate  accident  which  happened  to  me  when  I 
was  a  very  little  boy.  A  good-hearted  old  Irish  nurse  (whom  I 
shall  not  forget  in  my  will)  took  me  up  one  day  by  the  heels, 
wrhen  I  was  making  more  noise  than  was  necessary,  and,  swing- 
ing me  round  two  or  three  times,  d d  my  eyes  for  "  a  skreek- 

ing  little  spalpeen,"  and  then  knocked  my  head  into  a  cocked  hat 
against  the  bed-post.  This,  I  say,  decided  my  fate,  and  made  my 
fortune.  A  bump  arose  at  once  on  my  sinciput,  and  turned  out 
to  be  as  pretty  an  organ  of  order  as  one  shall  see  on  a  summer's 
day.  Hence  that  positive  appetite  for  system  and  regularity 
which  has  made  me  the  distinguished  man  of  business  that  I  am. 

If  there  is  any  thing  on  earth  I  hate,  it  is  a  genius.  Your 
geniuses  are  all  arrant  asses — -the  greater  the  xrenius  the  greater 


METHOD  IS  THE  SOUL  OF  BUSINESS.  32? 

the  ass — And  to  this  rule  there  is  no  exception  whatever.  Espe- 
cially, you  cannot  make  a  man  of  business  out  of  a  genius,  any 
more  than  money  out  of  a  Jew,  or  the  best  nutmegs  out  of  pine- 
knots.  The  creatures  are  always  going  off  at  a  tangent  into  some 
fantastic  employment,  or  ridiculous  speculation,  entirely  at  vari- 
ance with  the  "  fitness  of  things,"  and  having  no  business  what- 
ever to  be  considered  as  a  business  at  all.  Thus  you  may  tell 
these  characters  immediately  by  the  nature  of  their  occupations. 
If  you  ever  perceive  a  man  setting  up  as  a  merchant  or  a  manu- 
facturer ;  or  going  into  the  cotton  or  tobacco  trade,  or  any  of 
those  eccentric  pursuits  ;  or  getting  to  be  a  dry-goods  dealer,  or 
soap-boiler,  or  something  of  that  kind ;  or  pretending  to  be  a 
lawyer,  or  a  blacksmith,  or  a  physician — anything  out  of  the 
usual  way — you  may  set  him  down  at  once  as  a  genius,  and  then, 
according  to  the  rule-of-three,  he's  an  ass. 

Now  I  am  not  in  any  respect  a  genius,  but  a  regular  business 
man.  My  Day-book  and  Ledger  will  evince  this  in  a  minute. 
They  are  well  kept,  though  I  say  it  myself;  and,  in  my  general 
habits  of  accuracy  and  punctuality,  I  am  not  to  be  beat  by  a 
clock.  Moreover,  my  occupations  have  been  always  made  to 
chime  in  with  the  ordinary  habitudes  of  my  fellow-men.  Not 
that  I  feel  the  least  indebted,  upon  this  score,  to  my  exceedingly 
weak-minded  parents,  who,  beyond  doubt,  would  have  made  an 
arrant  genius  of  me  at  last,  if  my  guardian  angel  had  not  come, 
in  good  time,  to  the  rescue.  In  biography  the  truth  is  every 
thing,  and  in  auto-biography  it  is  especially  so — yet  I  scarcely 
hope  to  be  believed  when  I  state,  however  solemnly,  that  my 
poor  father  put  me,  when  I  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  into 
the  counting-house  of  what  he  termed  "  a  respectable  hardware 
and  commission  merchant  doing  a  capital  bit  of  business  !"  A 
capital  bit  of  fiddlestick !  However,  the  consequence  of  this 
folly  was,  that  in  two  or  three  days,  I  had  to  be  sent  home  to 
my  button-headed  family  in  a  high  state  of  fever,  and  with  a  most 
violent  and  dangerous  pain  in  the  sinciput,  all  round  about  my 
organ  of  order.  It  was  nearly  a  gone  case  with  me  then — just 
touch-and-go  for  six  weeks — the  physicians  giving  me  up  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing.  But,  although  I  suffered  much,  I  was  a 


328  METHOD  IS  THE  SUUL  OF  BUSINESS. 

thankful  boy  in  the  main.  I  was  saved  from  being  a  "respecta- 
ble hardware  and  commission  merchant,  doing  a  capital  bit  of 
business,"  and  I  felt  grateful  to  the  protuberance  which  had  been 
the  means  of  my  salvation,  as  well  as  to  the  kind-hearted  female 
who  had  originally  put  these  means  within  my  reach. 

The  most  of  boys  run  away  from  home  at  ten  or  twelve  years 
of  age,  but  I  waited  till  I  was  sixteen.  I  don't  know  that  I 
should  have  gone,  even  then,  if  I  had  not  happened  to  hear  my 
old  mother  talk  about  setting  me  up  on  my  own  hook  in  the 
grocery  way.  The  grocery  way  ! — only  think  of  that !  I  resolved 
to  be  off  forthwith,  and  try  and  establish  myself  in  some  decent  oc- 
cupation, without  dancing  attendance  any  longer  upon  the  capri- 
ces of  these  eccentric  old  people,  and  running  the  risk  of  being 
made  a  genius  of  in  the  end.  In  this  project  I  succeeded  per- 
fectly well  at  the  first  effort,  and  by  the  time  I  was  fairly  eigh- 
teen, found  myself  doing  an  extensive  and  profitable  business  iu 
the  Tailor's  Walking- Advertisement  line. 

I  was  enabled  to  discharge  the  onerous  duties  of  this  profession, 
only  by  that  rigid  adherence  to  system  which  formed  the  leading 
feature  of  my  mind.  A  scrupulous  method  characterized  my 
actions  as  well  as  my  accounts.  In  my  case,  it  was  method — • 
not  money — which  made  the  man :  at  least  all  of  him  that  was 
not  made  by  the  tailor  whom  I  served.  At  nine,  every  morning, 
I  called  upon  that  individual  for  the  clothes  of  the  day.  Ten 
o'clock  found  me  in  some  fashionable  promenade  or  other  place 
of  public  amusement.  The  precise  regularity  with  which  I  turned 
my  handsome  person  about,  so  as  to  bring  successively  into  view 
every  portion  of  the  suit  upon  my  back,  was  the  admiration  of 
all  the  knowing  men  in  the  trade.  Noon  never  passed  without 
my  bringing  home  a  customer  to  the  house  of  my  employers, 
Messrs.  Cut  and  Comeagain.  I  say  this  proudly,  but  with  tears 
in  my  eyes — for  the  firm  proved  themselves  the  basest  of  ingrates. 
The  little  account  about  which  we  quarrelled  and  finally  parted, 
cannot,  in  any  item,  be  thought  overcharged,  by  gentleman  really 
conversant  with  the  nature  of  the  business.  Upon  this  point 
however,  I  feel  a  degree  of  proud  satisfaction  in  permitting  the 
reader  to  judge  for  himself.  My  bill  ran  thus : 


THE  BUSINESS  MAN.  329 

Messrs.  Cut  and  Comeagain.  Merchant  Tailors. 

To  Peter  Profit,  Walking  Advertiser,         Dre. 

July  10.  To  promenade,  as  usual,  and  customer  brought  homo,        $00  25 

July  11.  To  do  do  do  25 

July  12,  To  one  lie,  second  class  ;  damaged  black  cloth  sold  for 

invisible  green,  25 

'uly  13.  To  one  lie,  first  class,  extra  quality  and  size  ;  recom- 
mending milled  sattinet  as  broadcloth,  75 

July  20.  To  purchasing  bran  new  paper  shirt  collar  or  dickey, 

to  set  off  gray  Petersham,  2 

Aug.  15.  To  wearing  double-padded  bobtail  frock,  (thermome- 
ter 706  in  the  shade,)  25 

Aug   16    Standing  on  one   leg  three  hours,  to  show  off  new- 
style  strapped  pants  at  12£  cents  per  leg  per  hour,  37J 

Aug.  17.  To  promenade,  as  usual,  and  large  customer  brought 

(fat  man,)  50 

Aug.  18.  To  do  do  (medium  size,)  25 

Aug   19.  To  do  do  (small  man  and  bad  pay,)  6 

$2  96i 

The  item  chiefly  disputed  in  this  bill  was  the  very  moderate 
charge  of  two  pennies  for  the  dickey.  Upon  my  word  of  honor, 
this  was  not  an  unreasonable  price  for  that  dickey.  It  was  one 
of  the  cleanest  and  prettiest  little  dickeys  I  ever  saw ;  and  I 
have  good  reason  to  believe  that  it  effected  the  sale  of  three  Pe- 
tershams. The  elder  partner  of  the  firm,  however,  would  allow 
me  only  one  penny  of  the  charge,  and  took  it  upon  himself  to 
show  in  what  manner  four  of  the  same  sized  conveniences  could 
be  got  out  of  a  sheet  of  foolscap.  But  it  is  needless  to  say  that 
I  stood  upon  the  principle  of  the  thing.  Business  is  business, 
and  should  be  done  in  a  business  way.  There  was  no  system 
whatever  in  swindling  me  out  of  a  penny — a  clear  fraud  of  fifty 
per  cent. — no  method  in  any  respect.  I  left  at  once  the  employ- 
ment of  Messrs.  Cut  and  Comeagain,  and  set  up  in  the  Eye-Sore 
line  by  myself — one  of  the  most  lucrative,  respectable  and  inde- 
pendent of  the  ordinary  occupations. 

My  strict  integrity,  economy,  and  rigorous  business  habits,  here 
again  came  into  play.  I  found  myself  driving  a  flourishing  trade, 
and  soon  became  a  marked  man  upon  '  Change.'  The  truth  is,  I 
never  dabbled  ii  flashy  matters,  but  jogged  on  in  the  good  old 


330  THE  BUSINESS  MAN. 

Bober  routine  of  the  calling- — a  calling  in  which  I  should,  no 
doubt,  have  remained  to  the  present  hour,  but  for  a  little  accident 
which  happened  to  me  in  the  prosecution  of  one  of  the  usual  busi- 
ness operations  of  the  profession.  Whenever  a  rich  old  hunks, 
or  prodigal  heir,  or  bankrupt  corporation,  gets  into  the  notion  of 
putting  up  a  palace,  there  is  no  such  thing  in  the  world  as  stop 
ping  either  of  them,  and  this  every  intelligent  person  knows.  The 
fact  in  question  is  indeed  the  basis  of  the  Eye-Sore  trade.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  a  building  project  is  fairly  afoot  by  one  of  these  par- 
ties, we  merchants  secure  a  nice  corner  of  the  lot  in  contempla- 
tion, or  a  prime  little  situation  just  adjoining  or  right  in  front. 
This  doner  we  wait  until  the  palace  is  half-way  up,  and  then  we 
•pay  some  tasty  architect  to  run  us  up  an  ornamental  mud  hovel, 
right  against  it ;  or  a  Down-East  or  Dutch  Pagoda,  or  a  pig-sty, 
or  an  ingenious  little  bit  of  fancy  work,  either  Esquimau,  Kicka- 
poo,  or  Hottentot.  Of  course,  we  can't  afford  to  take  these 
structures  down  under  a  bonus  of  five  hundred  per  cent,  upon 
the  prime  cost  of  our  lot  and  plaster.  Can  we  ?  I  ask  the 
question.  I  ask  it  of  business  men.  It  would  be  irrational  to 
suppose  that  we  can.  And  yet  there  was  a  rascally  corporation 
which  asked  me  to  do  this  very  thing — this  very  thing  !  I  did 
not  reply  to  their  absurd  proposition,  of  course ;  but  I  felt  it  a 
duty  to  go  that  same  night,  and  lamp-black  the  whole  of  their 
palace.  For  this,  the  unreasonable  villains  clapped  me  into  jail ; 
and  the  gentlemen  of  the  Eye-Sore  trade  could  not  well  avoid 
cutting  my  connection  when  I  came  out. 

The  Assault  and  Battery  business,  into  which  I  was  now  forced 
to  adventure  for  a  livelihood,  was  somewhat  ill-adapted  to  the 
delicate  nature  of  my  constitution ;  but  I  went  to  work  in  it  with 
a  good  heart,  and  found  my  account,  here  as  heretofore,  in  those 
stern  habits  of  methodical  accuracy  which  had  been  thumped 
into  me  by  that  delightful  old  nurse — I  would  indeed  be  the 
basest  of  men  not  to  remember  her  well  in  my  will.  By  observ- 
ing, as  I  say,  the  strictest  system  in  all  my  dealings,  and  keeping 
a  well-regulated  Bet  of  books,  I  was  enabled  to  get  over  many 
serious  difficulties,  and,  in  the  end,  to  establish  myself  very 
decently  in  the  profession.  The  truth  is,  that  few  individuals,  in 
any  line,  did  a  snugger  little  business  than  I.  I  will  just  copy  a 


THE  BUSINESS  MAN.  331 

page  or  so  out  of  my  Day-Book  ;  and  this  will  save  me  the 
necessity  of  blowing  my  own  trumpet — a  contemptible  practice, 
of  which  PO  high-minded  man  will  be  guilty.  Now,  the  Day- 
Book  is  a  ihing  that  don't  lie. 

u  Jan.  1. — New  Year's  day.  Met  Snap  in  the  street,  groggy. 
Mem — he'll  do.  Met  Gruff  shortly  afterwards,  blind  drunk. 
Mem — he'll  answer  too.  Entered  both  gentlemen  in  my  Ledger, 
and  opened  a  running  account  with  each. 

"  Jan  2. — Saw  Snap  at  the  Exchange,  and  went  up  and  trod  on 
his  toe.  Doubled  his  fist  and  knocked  me  down.  Good ! — got 
up  again.  Some  trifling  difficulty  with  Bag,  my  attorney.  I 
want  the  damages  at  a  thousand,  but  he  says  that,  for  so  simple 
a  knock-down,  we  can't  lay  them  at  more  than  five  hundred. 
Mem — must  get  rid  of  Bag — no  system  at  all. 

"  Jan.  3. — Went  to  the  theatre,  to  look  for  Gruff.  Saw  him 
sitting  in  a  side  box,  in  the  second  tier,  between  a  fat  lady  and  a 
lean  one.  Quizzed  the  whole  party  through  an  opera-glass,  till 
I  saw  the  fat  lady  blush  and  whisper  to  G.  Went  round,  then, 
ir.to  the  box,  and  put  my  nose  within  reach  of  his  hand.  Wouldn't 
pull  it — no  go.  Blew  it,  and  tried  again — no  go.  Sat  down 
then,  and  winked  at  the  lean  lady,  when  I  had  the  high  satisfac- 
tion of  finding  him  lift  me  up  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  and  fling 
me  over  into  the  pit.  Neck  dislocated,  and  right  leg  capitally 
splintered.  Went  home  in  high  glee,  drank  a  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne, and  booked  the  young  man  for  five  thousand.  Bag  says 
it'll  do. 

"  Feb.  15. — Compromised  the  case  of  Mr.  Snap.  Amount 
entered  in  Journal — fifty  cents — which  see. 

"  Feb.  16. — Cast  by  that  villain,  Gruff,  who  made  me  a  present 
of  five  dollars.  Costs  of  suit,  four  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents. 
Nett  profit — see  Journal — seventy-five  cents." 

Now,  here  is  a  clear  gain,  in  a  very  brief  period,  of  no  less 
than  one  dollar  and  twenty  five  cents — this  is  in  the  mere  cases 
of  Snap  and  Gruff;  and  I  solemnly  assure  the  reader  that  these 
extracts  are  taken  at  random  from  my  Day-Book. 

It's  an  old  saying,  and  a  true  one,  however,  that  money  is 
nothing  in  comparison  with  health.  I  found  the  exactions  of 
the  profession  somewhat  too  much  for  my  delicate  state  of  body ; 


332  THE  BUSINESS  MAN. 

and,  discovering,  at  last,  that  I  was  knocked  all  out  of  shape,  so 
tbat  I  did't  know  very  well  what  to  make  of  the  matter,  and  so 
that  my  friends,  when  they  met  me  in  the  street,  could'nt  tell 
that  I  was  Peter  Profit  at  all,  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  best 
expedient  I  could  adopt,  was  to  alter  my  line  of  business.  I 
turned  my  attention,  therefore,  to  Mud-Dabbling,  and  continued 
it  for  some  years. 

The  worst  of  this  occupation,  is,  that  too  many  people  take  a 
fancy  to  it,  and  the  competition  is  in  consequence  excessive. 
Every  ignoramus  of  a  fellow  who  finds  that  he  hasn't  brains  in 
sufficient  quantity  to  make  his  way  as  a  walking  advertiser,  or 
an  eye-sore-prig,  or  a  salt  and  batter  man,  thinks,  of  course,  that 
he'll  answer  very  well  as  a  dabbler  of  mud.  But  there  never 
was  entertained  a  more  erroneous  idea  than  that  it  requires  no 
brains  to  mud-dabble.  Especially,  there  is  nothing  to  be  made  in 
this  way  without  method.  I  did  only  a  retail  business  myself, 
but  my  old  habits  of  system  carried  me  swimmingly  along.  I 
selected  my  street-crossing,  in  the  first  place,  with  great 
deliberation,  and  I  never  put  down  a  broom  in  any  part  of  the 
town  but  that.  I  took  care,  too,  to  have  a  nice  little  puddle  at 
hand,  which  I  could  get  at  in  a  minute.  By  these  means  I  got 
to  be  well  known  as  a  man  to  be  trusted  ;  and  this  is  one-half 
the  battle,  let  me  tell  you,  in  trade.  Nobody  ever  failed  to 
pitch  me  a  copper,  and  got  over  my  crossing  with  a  clean  pair  of 
pantaloons.  And,  as  my  business  habits,  in  this  respect,  were 
sufficiently  understood,  I  never  met  with  any  attempt  at  imposi- 
tion. I  would'nt  have  put  up  with  it,  if  I  had.  Never  imposing 
upon  any  one  myself,  I  suffered  no  one  to  play  the  possum  with 
me.  The  frauds  of  the  banks  of  course  I  could'nt  help.  Their 
suspenskn  put  me  to  ruinous  inconvenience.  These,  however, 
are  not  individuals,  but  corporations  ;  and  corporations,  it  is  very 
well  known,  have  neither  bodies  to  be  kicked,  nor  souls  to  be 
damned. 

I  was  making  money  at  this  business,  when,  in  an  evil  mo- 
ment, I  was  induced  to  merge  in  the  Cur-Spattering — a  some- 
what analogous,  but,  by  no  means,  so  respectable  a  profession 
My  location,  to  be  sure,  was  an  excellent  one,  being  central,  and 
I  had  capital  blacking  and  brushes.  My  little  dog,  too,  was 


THE  BUSINESS  MAN  333 

quite  tat  and  up  to  all  varieties  of  snuff.  He  had  been  in  the 
trade  a  long  time,  and,  I  may  say,  understood  it.  Our  general 
routine  was  this ; — Pompey,  having  rolled  himself  well  in  the 
mud,  sat  upon  end  at  the  shop  door,  until  he  observed  a  dandy 
approaching  in  bright  boots.  He  then  proceeded  to  meet  him, 
and  gave  the  Wellingtons  a  rub  or  two  with  his  wool.  Then 
the  dandy  swore  very  much,  and  looked  about  for  a  boot-black. 
There  I  was,  full  in  his  view,  with  blacking  and  brushes.  It 
was  only  a  minute's  work,  and  then  came  a  sixpence.  This  did 
moderately  well  for  a  time ; — in  fact,  I  was  not  avaricious,  but 
my  dog  was.  I  allowed  him  a  third  of  the  profit,  but  he  was 
advised  to  insist  upon  half.  This  I  could'nt  stand — so  we 
quarrelled  and  parted. 

I  next  tried  my  hand  at  the  Organ-grinding  for  a  while,  and 
may  say  that  I  made  out  pretty  well.  It  is  a  plain,  straight- 
forward business,  and  requires  no  particular  abilities.  You  can 
get  a  music-mill  for  a  mere  song,  and,  to  put  it  'in  order,  you 
have  but  to  open  the  works,  and  give  them  three  or  four  smart 
raps  with  a  hammer.  It  improves  the  tone  of  the  thing,  for 
business  purposes,  more  than  you  can  imagine.  This  done,  you 
have  only  to  stroll  along,  with  the  mill  on  your  back,  until  you 
see  tan-bark  in  the  street,  and  a  knocker  wrapped  up  in  buck- 
skin. Then  you  stop  and  grind ;  looking  as  if  you  meant  to  stop 
and  grind  till  doomsday.  Presently  a  window  opens,  and  some- 
body pitches  you  a  sixpence,  with  a  request  to  "  Hush  up  and 
go  on,"  &c.  I  am  aware  that  some  grinders  have  actually 
afforded  to  "  go  on"  for  this  sum ;  but  for  my  part,  I  found  the 
necessary  outlay  of  capital  too  great,  to  permit  of  my  "  going  on" 
under  a  shilling. 

At  this  occupation  I  did  a  good  deal ;  but,  somehow,  I  was 
n!)t  quite  satisfied,  and  so  finally  abandoned  it.  The  truth  is,  I 
labored  under  the  disadvantage  of  having  no  monkey — and 
American  streets  are  so  muddy,  and  a  Democratic  rabble  is  so 
obtrusive,  and  so  full  of  demnition  mischievous  little  boys. 

I  was  now  out  of  employment  for  some  months,  but  at  lengt?i 
succeeded,  by  dint  of  great  interest,  in  procuring  a  situation  in 
the  Sham-Post.  The  duties,  here,  are  simple,  and  not  altogether 
unprofitable.  For  example  : — very  early  in  the  morning  I  had 


&)4  THE  BUSINESS  WANT- 

to  make  up  my  packet  of  sham  letters.  Upon  the  inside  of  •jaeh 
of  these  I  had  to  scrawl  a  few  lines — on  any  subject  which 
occurred  tome  as  sufficiently  mysterious — signing  all  t  lie  epistles 
Tom  Dobson,  or  Bobby  Tompkins,  or  anything  in  that  way. 
Having  folded  and  sealed  all,  and  stamped  them  with  sham  post- 
marks— New  Orleans,  Bengal,  Botany  Bay,  or  any  other  place 
a  great  way  off — I  set  out,  forthwith,  upon  my  daily  route,  as  if 
in  a  very  great  hurry.  I  always  called  at  the  big  houses  to 
deliver  the  letters,  and  receive  the  postage.  Nobody  hesitates 
at  paying  for  a  letter — especially  for  a  double  one — people  are 
such  fools — and  it  was  no  trouble  to  get  round  a  corner  before 
there  was  time  to  open  the  epistles.  The  worst  of  this  pro- 
fession was,  that  I  had  to  walk  so  much  and  so  fast ;  and  so 
frequently  to  vary  my  route.  Besides,  I  had  serious  scruples 
of  conscience.  I  can't  bear  to  hear  innocent  individuals  abused 
— and  the  way  the  whole  town  took  to  cursing  Tom  Dobson  and 
Bobby  Tompkins,  was  really  awful  to  hear.  I  washed  my  hands 
of  the  matter  in  disgust. 

My  eighth  and  last  speculation  has  been  in  the  Cat-Growing 
way.  I  have  found  this  a  most  pleasant  and  lucrative  business, 
and,  really,  no  trouble  at  all.  The  country,  it  is  well  known, 
has  become  infested  with  cats — so  much  so  of  late,  that  a  petition 
for  relief,  most  numerously  and  respectably  signed,  was  brought 
before  the  legislature  at  its  late  memorable  session.  The 
assembly,  at  this  epoch,  was  unusually  well-informed,  and, 
having  passed  many  other  wise  and  wholesome  enactments,  it 
crowned  all  with  the  Cat-Act.  In  its  original  form,  this  law 
offered  a  premium  for  cat-heads,  (fourpence  a-piece)  but  the 
Senate  succeeded  in  amending  the  main  clause,  so  as  to  substi- 
tute the  word  "tails"  for  "heads."  This  amendment  was  so 
obviously  proper,  that  the  house  concurred  in  it  nem.  con. 

As  soon  as  the  Governor  had  signed  the  bill,  I  invested  my 
whole  estate  in  the  purchase  of  Toms  and  Tabbies.  At  first,  I  could 
only  afford  to  feed  them  upon  mice  (which  are  cheap),  but  they 
fulfilled  the  Scriptural  injunction  at  so  marvellous  a  rate,  that  I 
at  length  considered  it  my  best  policy  to  be  liberal,  and  so  indulged 
them  in  oysters  and  turtle.  Their  tails,  at  a  legislative  price,  now 
bring  me  in  a  good  income ;  for  I  have  discovered  a  way,  in 


THE  BUSINESS  MAN,  335 

which,  by  means  of  Macassar  oil,  I  can  force  three  crops  in  a 
year.  It  delights  me  to  find,  too,  that  the  animals  soon  get 
accustomed  to  the  thing,  and  would  rather  have  the  appendages 
cut  off  than  o:herwise.  I  consider,  myself,  therefore,  a  made 
man,  and  am  bargaining  for  a  country  seat  on  the  Hudson 


THE  LANDSCAPE   GARDEN. 


The  garden  like  a  lady  fair  was  cut, 

That  lay  as  if  she  slumbered  in  delight, 
And  to  the  open  skies  her  eyes  did  shut  ; 

The  azure  fields  of  heaven  were  'sembled  right 

In  a  large  round  set  with  the  flow'rs  of  light : 
The  flowers  de  luce  and  the  round  sparks  of  dew 
That  hung  upon  their  azure  leaves,  did  show 
Like  twinkling  stars  that  sparkle  in  the  ev'ning  blue. 

GILES  FLETCHER 


No  more  remarkable  man  ever  lived  than  my  friend,  the  young 
Ellison.  He  was  remarkable  in  the  entire  and  continuous  pro- 
fusion of  good  gifts  ever  lavished  upon  him  by  fortune.  From 
his  cradle  to  his  grave,  a  gale  of  the  blandest  prosperity  bore 
him  along.  Nor  do  I  use  the  word  Prosperity  in  its  mere 
worldly  or  external  sense.  I  mean  it  as  synonymous  with  hap- 
piness. The  person  of  whom  I  speak,  seemed  born  for  the  pur- 
pose of  foreshadowing  the  wild  doctrines  of  Turgot,  Price* 
Priestly,  and  Condorcet — of  exemplifying,  by  individual  instance, 
what  has  been  deemed  the  mere  chimera  of  the  perfectionists. 
In  the  brief  existence  of  Ellison,  I  fancy  that  I  have  seen  refuted 
the  dogma — that  in  man's  physical  and  spiritual  nature,  lies  somy 
hidden  principle,  the  antagonist  of  Bliss.  An  intimate  and 
anxious  examination  of  his  career,  has  taught  me  to  understand 
that,  in  general,  from  the  violation  of  a  few  simple  laws  of 
Humanity,  arises  the  Wretchedness  of  mankind ;  that,  as  a 
species,  we  have  in  our  possession  the  as  yet  unwrought  elements 
of  Content ;  and  that,  even  now,  in  the  present  blindness  and 
darkness  of  all  idea  on  the  great  question  of  the  Social  Condi- 
tion, it  is  not  impossible  that  Man,  the  individual,  under  certain 
unusual  and  highly  fortuitous  conditions,  may  be  happy. 


337 

With  opinions  such  as  these  was  my  young  friend  fully  im- 
bued ;  and  thus  is  it  especially  worthy  of  observation  that  the 
uninterrupted  enjoyment  which  distinguished  his  life  was  in  great 
part  the  result  of  preconcert.  It  is,  indeed,  evident,  that  with 
less  of  the  instinctive  philosophy  which,  now  and  then,  stands  so 
well  in  the  stead  of  experience,  Mr.  Ellison  would  have  found 
himself  precipitated,  by  the  very  extraordinary  successes  of  his 
life,  into  the  common  vortex  of  Unhappiness  which  yawns  foi 
those  of  pre-eminent  endowments.  But  it  is  by  no  means  my 
present  object  to  pen  an  essay  on  Happiness.  The  ideas  of  my 
friend  may  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words.  He  admitted  but 
four  unvarying  laws,  or  rather  elementary  principles,  of  Bliss. 
That  which  he  considered  chief,  was  (strange  to  say  !)  the  simple 
and  purely  physical  one  of  free  exercise  in  the  open  air.  "  The 
health,"  he  said,  "  attainable  by  other  means  than  this  is  scarcely 
worth  the  name."  He  pointed  to  the  tillers  of  the  earth — the 
only  people  who,  as  a  class,  are  proverbially  more  happy  than 
ethers — and  then  he  instanced  the  high  ecstacies  of  the  fox- 
hunter.  His  second  principle  was  the  love  of  woman.  His  third 
was  the  contempt  of  ambition.  His  fourth  was  an  object  of 
unceasing  pursuit ;  and  he  held  that,  other  things  being  equal, 
the  extent  of  happiness  was  proportioned  to  the  spirituality  of 
this  object. 

I  have  said  that  Ellison  was  remarkable  in  the  continuous 
profusion  of  good  gifts  lavished  upon  him  by  Fortune.  In  per- 
sonal grace  and  beauty  he  exceeded  all  men.  His  intellect 
was  of  that  order  to  which  the  attainment  of  knowledge  is  less  a 
labor  than  a  necessity  and  an  intuition.  His  family  was  one  of 
the  most  illustrious  of  the  empire.  His  bride  was  the  loveliest 
and  most  devoted  of  women.  His  possessions  had  been  always 
ample ;  but,  upon  the  attainment  of  his  one  and  twentieth  year, 
it  was  discovered  that  one  of  those  extraordinary  freaks  of  Fate 
had  been  played  in  his  behalf,  which  startle  the  •whole  social 
world  amid  which  they  occur,  and  seldom  fail  radically  to  alter 
the  entire  moral  constitution  of  those  who  are  their  objects.  It 
appears  that  about  one  hundred  years  prior  to  Mr.  Ellison's 
attainment  of  his  majority,  there  had  died,  in  a  remote  province, 
ono  Mr.  Seabright  Ellison.  This  gentleman  had  amassed  a 


338  THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN. 

princely  fortune,  and,  having  no  very  immediate  connections, 
conceived  the  whim  of  suffering  his  wealth  to  accumulate  for  a 
century  after  his  decease.  Minutely  and  sagaciously  directing 
the  various  modes  of  investment,  he  bequeathed  the  aggregate 
amount  to  the  nearest  of  blood,  bearing  the  name  Ellison,  who 
should  be  alive  at  the  end  of  the  hundred  years.  Many  futile 
attempts  had  been  made  to  set  aside  this  singular  bequest ;  their 
ex  post  facto  character  rendered  them  abortive;  but  the  atten- 
tion of  a  jealous  government  was  aroused,  and  a  decree  finally 
obtained,  forbidding  all  similar  accumulations.  This  act  did  not 
prevent  young  Ellison,  upon  his  twenty-first  birth-day,  from 
entering  into  possession,  as  the  heir  of  his  ancestor  Seabright,  of 
a  fortune  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  dollars.* 

When  it  had  become  definitely  known  that  such  was  the  enor- 
mous wealth  inherited,  there  were,  of  course,  many  speculations 
%s  to  the  mode  of  its  disposal.  The  gigantic  magnitude  and  the 
•mmediately  available  nature  of  the  sum,  dazzled  and  bewilder- 
rd  all  who  thought  upon  the  topic.  The  possessor  of  any  appre- 
ciable amount  of  money  might  have  been  imagined  to  perform 
any  one  of  a  thousand  things.  With  riches  merely  surpassing 
those  of  any  citizen,  it  would  have  been  easy  to  suppose  him 
engaging  to  supreme  excess  in  the  fashionable  extravagances  of 
his  time  ;  or  busying  himself  with  political  intrigues ;  or  aiming 
at  ministerial  power;  or  purchasing  increase  of  nobility;,  or 
devising  gorgeous  architectural  piles  ;  or  collecting  large  speci- 
mens of  Virtu ;  or  playing  the  munificent  patron  of  Letters  and 
Art;  or  endowing  and  bestowing  his  name  upon  extensive  insti- 
tutions of  charity.  But,  for  the  inconceivable  wealth  in  the 
actual  possession  of  the  young  heir,  these  objects  and  all  ordi- 
nary objects  were  felt  to  be  inadequate.  Recourse  was  had  10 
figures;  and  figures  but  sufficed  to  confound.  It  was  seen,  that 

*  An  incident  similar  in  outline  to  the  one  here  imagined,  occurred,  not 
very  long  ago.  in  England.  The  namp  of  the  fortunate  heir  (who  still  lives,) 
is  Thelluson.  I  first  saw  an  account  of  this  matter  in  the  ''  Tour"  of  Prince 
1'uckler  Muskau.  He  makes  the  sum  received  ninety  millions  of  pounds, 
and  observes,  with  much  force,  that  "  in  the  contemplation  of  so  vast  a  sum, 
and  of  the  services  to  which  it  might  be  applied,  there  is  something  even  of 
the  sublime."  To  suit  the  views  of  this  article,  I  have  followed  the  Prince's 
statement — a  grossly  exaggerated  one,  no  doubt 


THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN.  339 

even  at  three  per  cent.,  the  annual  income  of  the  inheritance 
amounted  to  no  less  than  thirteen  millions  and  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars  ;  which  was  one  million  and  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  thousand  per  month  ;  or  thirty-six  thousand,  nine 
hundred  and  eighty-six  per  day  ;  or  one  thousand  five  huudred 
and  forty-one  per  hour ;  or  six  and  twenty  dollars  for  every 
minute  that  flew.  Thus,  th'e  usual  track  of  supposition  was 
thoroughly  broken  up.  Men  knew  not  what  to  imagine.  There 
were  some  who  even  conceived  that  Mr.  Ellison  would  divest 
himself  forthwith  of  at  least  two-thirds  of  his  fortune  as  of 
utterly  superfluous  opulence  ;  enriching  whole  troops  of  his  rela 
tives  by  division  of  his  superabundance. 

I  was  not  surprised,  however,  to  perceive  that  he  had  long 
made  up  his  mind  upon  a  topic  which  had  occasioned  so  much 
of  discussion  to  his  friends.  Nor  was  I  greatly  astonished  at 
the  nature  of  his  decision.  In  the  widest  and  noblest  sense,  he 
was  a  poet.  He  comprehended,  moreover,  the  true  character, 
the  august  aims,  the  supreme  majesty  and  dignity  of  the  poetic 
sentiment.  The  proper  gratification  of  the  sentiment  he  in- 
stinctively felt  to  lie  in  the  creation  of  novel  forms  of  Beauty. 
Some  peculiarities,  either  in  his  early  education,  or  in  the  nature 
of  his  intellect,  had  tinged  with  what  is  termed  materialism  the 
whole  cast  of  his  ethical  speculations ;  and  it  was  this  bias,  per- 
haps, which  imperceptibly  led  him  to  perceive  that  the  most 
advantageous,  if  not  the  sole  legitimate  field  for  the  exercise  of 
the  poetic  sentiment,  was  to  be  found  in  the  creation  of  novel 
moods  of  purely  physical  loveliness.  Thus  it  happened  that  he- 
became  neither  musician  nor  poet ;  if  we  use  this  latter  term  in 
its  every-day  acceptation.  Or  it  might  have  been  that  he  be- 
came neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  in  pursuance  of  an  idea  of 
his  which  I  have  already  mentioned — the  idea,  that  in  the  con- 
tempt of  ambition  lay  one  of  the  essential  principles  of  happi- 
ness on  earth.  Is  it  not,  indeed,  possible  that  while  a  high  order 
of  genius  is  necessarily  ambitious,  the  highest  is  invariably  above 
that  which  is  termed  ambition  ?  And  may  it  not  thus  happen 
that  many  far  greater  than  Milton,  have  contentedly  remained 
'•  mute  and  inglorious  ?"  I  believe  that  the  world  has  never  yet 
seen,  and  that,  unless  through  some  series  of  accidents  goading 


340  THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN. 

the  noblest  order  of  mind  into  distasteful  exertion,  the  world 
will  never  behold  that  full  extent  of  triumphant  execution,  in  the 
richer  productions  of  Art,  of  which  the  human  nature  is  abso- 
lutely capable. 

Mr.  Ellison  became  neither  musician  nor  poet ;  although  no 
man  lived  more  profoundly  enamored  both  of  Music  and  the 
Muse.  Under  other  circumstances  than  those  which  invested 
him,  it  is  not  impossible  that  he  would  have  become  a  painter. 
The  li'eld  of  sculpture,  although  in  its  nature  rigidly  poetical, 
was  too  limited  in  its  extent  and  in  its  consequences,  to  have 
occupied,  at  any  time,  much  of  his  attention.  And  I  have  now 
mentioned  all  the  provinces  in  which  even  the  most  liberal  un- 
derstanding of  the  poetic  sentiment  has  declared  this  sentiment 
capable  of  expatiating.  I  mean  the  most  liberal  public  or  recog- 
nized conception  of  the  idea  involved  in  the  phrase  "  poetic  sen- 
timent." But  Mr.  Ellison  imagined  that  the  richest,  and  alto- 
gether the  most  natural  and  most  suitable  province,  had  been 
blindly  neglected.  No  definition  had  spoken  of  the  Landscape- 
Gardener,  as  of  the  poet ;  yet  my  friend  could  not  fail  to  per- 
ceive that  the  creation  of  the  Landscape- Garden  offered  to  the 
true  muse  the  most  magnificent  of  opportunities.  Here  was, 
indeed,  the  fairest  field  for  the  display  of  invention,  or  imagina- 
tion, in  the  endless  combining  of  forms  of  novel  Beauty ;  the 
elements  which  should  enter  into  combination  being,  at  all  times, 
and  by  a  vast  superiority,  the  most  glorious  which  the  earth 
could  afford.  In  the  multiform  of  the  tree,  and  in  the  multicolor 
of  the  flower,  he  recognized  the  most  direct  and  the  most 
energetic  efforts  of  Nature  at  physical  loveliness.  And  in  tho 
direction  Or  concentration  of  this  effort,  or,  still  more  properly, 
in  its  adaptation  to  the  eyes  which  were  to  behold  it  upon  earth, 
he  perceived  that  he  should  be  employing  the  best  means — 
laboring  to  the  greatest  advantage — in  the  fulfilment  of  his 
destiny  as  Poet. 

"  Its  adaptation  to  the  eyes  which  were  to  behold  it  upon 
earth."  In  his  explanation  of  this  phraseology,  Mr.  Ellison  did 
much  towards  solving  what  has  always  seemed  to  me  an  enigma, 
I  mean  the  fact  (which  none  but  the  ignorant  dispute),  that  no 
such  combinations  of  scenery  exist  in  Nature  as  the  painter  of 


THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN.  341 

genius  has  in  his  power  to  produce.  No  such  Paradises  are  to 
be  found  in  reality  as  have  glowed  upon  the  canvass  of  Claude. 
In  the  most  enchanting  of  natural  landscapes,  there  will  always 
be  found  a  defect  or  an  excess — many  excesses  and  defects 
While  th'e  component  parts  may  exceed,  individually,  the  highest 
skill  of  the  artist,  the  arrangement  of  the  parts  will  always  be 
susceptible  of  improvement.  In  short,  no  position  can  be  at- 
tained, from  which  an  artistical  eye,  looking  steadily,  will  not 
find  matter  of  offence,  in  what  is  technically  termed  the  composi 
tion  of  a  natural  landscape.  And  yet  how  unintelligible  is  this » 
In  all  other  matters  we  are  justly  instructed  to  regard  Nature  as 
supreme.  With  her  details  we  shrink  from  competition.  Who 
shall  presume  to  imitate  the  colors  of  the  tulip,  or  to  improve 
he  proportions  of  the  lily  of  the  valley  ?  The  criticism  which 
says,  of  sculpture  or  of  portraiture,  that  "  Nature  is  to  be  ex- 
alted rather  than  imitated,"  is  in  error.  No  pictorial  or  sculp- 
tural combinations  of  points  of  human  loveliness,  do  more  than 
approach  the  living  and  breathing  human  beauty  as  it  gladdens 
our  daily  path.  Byron,  who  often  erred,  erred  not  in  saying, 

I've  seen  more  living  beauty,  ripe  and  real, 
Than  all  the  nonsense  of  their  stone  ideal. 

In  landscape  alone  is  the  principle  of  the  critic  true ;  and,  hav- 
ing felt  its  truth  here,  it  is  but  the  headlong  spirit  of  generaliza- 
tion which  has  induced  him  to  pronounce  it  true  throughout  all 
the  domains  of  Art.  Having,  I  say,  felt  its  truth  here.  For 
the  feeling  is  no  affectation  or  chimera.  The  mathematics 
alToid  no  more  absolute  demonstrations,  than  the  sentiment  of  his 
Art  yields  to  the  artist.  He  not  only  believes,  but  positively 
knoics,  that  such  and  such  apparently  arbitrary  arrangements  of 
matter,  or  form,  constitute,  and  alone  constitute,  the  true  Beauty. 
Yet  his  reasons  have  not  yet  been  matured  into  expression.  It 
remains  for  a  more  profound  analysis  than  the  world  has  yet 
seen,  fully  to  investigate  and  express  them.  Nevertheless  is  he 
confirmed  in  his  instinctive  opinions,  by  the  concurrence  of  all 
his  compeers.  Let  a  composition  be  defective;  let  an  emenda- 
tion be  wrought  in  its  mere  arrangement  of  form  ;  lot  this  emen- 
dation be  submitted  to  every  artist  in  the  world  ;  by  each  will 


S42  THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN. 

its  necessity  be  admitted.  And  even  far  more  than  this;  in 
remedy  of  the  defective  composition,  each  insulated  member  of 
the  fraternity  will  suggest  the  identical  emendation. 

I  repeat  that  in  landscape  arrangements,  or  collocations  alone, 
is  the  physical  Nature  susceptible  of  "  exaltation,"  and  that, 
therefore,  her  susceptibility  of  improvement  at  this  one  point, 
was  a  mystery  which,  hitherto  I  had  been  unable  to  solve.  -It 
was  Mr.  Ellison  who  first  suggested  the  idea  that  what  we 
regarded  as  improvement  or  exaltation  of  the  natural  beauty, 
was  really  such,  as  respected  only  the  mortal  or  human  point  of 
I'fc'ic  :  that  each  alteration  or  disturbance  of  the  primitive  scenery 
might  possibly  effect  a  blemish  in  the  picture,  if  we  could  sup- 
pose this  picture  viewed  at  large  from  some  remote  point  in  th"- 
Leavens.  ;'  It  is  easily  understood,"  says  Mr.  Ellison,  "  that 
what  might  improve  a  closely  scrutinized  detail,  might,  at  the 
same  time,  injure  a  general  and  more  distantly-observed  effect." 
lie  spoke  upon  this  topic  with  warmth  :  regarding  not  so  much 
its  immediate  or  obvious  importance,  (which  is  little,)  as  the 
character  of  the  conclusions  to  which  it  might  lead,  or  of  the 
collateral  propositions  which  it  might  serve  to  corroborate  or 
sustain.  There  might  be  a  class  of  beings,  human  once,  but  now 
to  humanity  invisible,  for  whose  scrutiny,  and  for  whose  refined 
appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  more  especially  than  for  our  own, 
had  been  set  in  order  by  God  the  great  landscape-garden  of  the 
whole  earth. 

In  the  course  of  our  discussion,  my  young  friend  took  occasion 
to  quote  some  passages  from  a  writer  who  has  been  supposed  to 
have  well  treated  this  theme. 

"  There  are,  properly,"  he  writes, "  but  two  styles  of  landscape- 
gardening,  the  natural  and  the  artificial.  One  seeks  to  recall 
the  original  beauty  of  the  country,  by  adapting  its  means  to  the 
surrounding  scenery;  cultivating  trees  in  harmony  with  the 
hills  or  plain  of  the  neighboring  land  ;  detecting  and  bringing 
into  practice  those  nice  relations  of  size,  proportion,  and  color 
which,  hid  from  the  common  observer,  are  revealed  everywhere 
to  the  experienced  student  of  nature.  The  result  of  the  natural 
style  of  gardening,  is  seen  rather  in  the  absence  of  all  defects 
and  incongruities^-in  the  prevalence  of  a  beautiful  harmony  and 


THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN.  343 

order,  than  in  the  creation  of  any  special  wonders  or  miracles. 
The  artificial  style  has  as  many  varieties  as  there  are  different 
tastes  to  gratify.  It  has  a  certain  general  relatijn  to  the  various 
styles  of  building.  There  are  the  stately  avenues  and  retire- 
ments of  Versailles ;  Italian  terraces  ;  and  a  various  mixed  old 
English  style,  which  bears  some  relation  to  the  domestic  Gothic 
or  English  Elizabethan  architecture.  Whatever  may  be  said 
against  the  abuses  of  the  artificial  landscape-gardening,  a  mix- 
ture of  pure  arf  in  a  garden  scene,  adds  to  it  a  great  beauty. 
This  is  partly  pleasing  to  the  eye,  by  the  show  of  order  and 
design,  and  partly  moral.  A  terrace,  with  an  old  moss-covered 
balustrade,  calls  up  at  once  to  the  eye,  the  fair  forms  that  have 
passed  there  in  other  days.  The  slightest  exhibition  of  art  is  an 
evidence  of  care  and  human  interest." 

"  From  what  I  have  already  observed,"  said  Mr.  Ellison, 
"  you  will  understand  that  I  reject  the  idea,  here  expressed,  of 
4  recalling  the  original  beauty  of  the  country.'  The  original 
beauty  is  never  so  great  as  that  which  may  be  introduced.  Of 
course,  much  depends  upon  the  selection  of  a  spot  with  capabili- 
ties. What  is  said  in  respect  to  the  l  detecting  and  bringing 
into  practice  those  nice  relations  of  size,  proportion,  and  color,' 
is  a  mere  vagueness  of  speech,  which  may  mean  much,  or  little, 
or  nothing,  and  which  guides  in  no  degree.  That  the  true  '  result 
of  the  natural  style  of  gardening  is  seen  rather  in  the  absence 
of  all  defects  and  incongruities,  than  in  the  creation  of  any 
special  wonders  or  miracles,'  is  a  proposition  better  suited  to  the 
grovelling  apprehension  of  the  herd,  than  to  the  fervid  dreams 
of  the  man  of  genius.  The  merit  suggested  is,  at  best,  negative, 
and  appertains  to  that  hobbling  criticism  which,  in  letters,  would 
elevate  Addison  into  apotheosis.  In  truth,  while  that  merit  which 
consists  in  the  mere  avoiding  demerit,  appeals  directly  to  the 
understanding,  and  can  thus  be  foreshadowed  in  Rule,  the  loftier 
merit,  which  breathes  and  flames  in  invention  or  creation,  can 
be  apprehended  solely  in  its  results.  Rule  applies  but  to  the 
excellences  of  avoidance — to  the  virtues  which  deny  or  refrain. 
Beyond  these  the  critical  art  can  but  suggest.  We  may  be  in- 
structed to  build  an  Odyssey,  but  it  is  in  vain  that  we  are  told 
how  to  conceive  a '  Tempest,'  an  '  Inferno,'  a  '  Prometheus  Bound 


344  THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN. 

a  '  Nightingale,'  such  as  that  of  Keats,  or  the  '  Sensitive  Plant' 
of  Shelley.  But,  the  thing  done,  the  wonder  accomplished,  and 
the  capacity  for  apprehension  becomes  universal.  The  sophists 
of  the  negative  school,  who  through  inability  to  create,  have 
scoffed  at  creation,  are  now  found  the  loudest,  in  applause.  What, 
in  its  chrysalis  condition  of  principle,  affronted  their  demure 
reason,  never  fails,  in  its  maturity  of  accomplishment,  to  ex- 
tort  admiration  from  their  instinct  of  the  beautiful  or  of  the 
sublime. 

"  Our  author's  observations  on  the  artificial  style  of  garden- 
ing," continued  Mr.  Ellison,  "  are  less  objectionable.  '  A  mix- 
ture of  pure  art  in  a  garden  scene,  adds  to  it  a  great  beauty. 
This  is  just ;  and  the  reference  to  the  sense  of  human  interest  ia 
equally  so.  I  repeat  that  the  principle  here  expressed,  is  incon- 
trovertible ;  but  there  may  be  something  even  beyond  it.  There 
may  be  an  object  in  full  keeping  with  the  principle  suggested — • 
an  object  unattainable  by  the  means  ordinarily  in  possession  of 
mankind,  yet  which,  if  attained,  would  lend  a  charm  to  the  land- 
scape-garden immeasurably  surpassing  that  which  a  merely 
human  interest  could  bestow.  The  true  poet  possessed  of  very 
unusual  pecuniary  resources,  might  possibly,  while  retaining  the 
necessary  idea  of  art  or  interest  or  culture,  so  imbue  his  designs 
at  once  with  extent  and  novelty  of  Beauty,  as  to  convey  the 
sentiment  of  spiritual  interference.  It  will  be  seen  that,  in 
bringing  about  such  result,  he  secures  all  the  advantages  of 
interest  or  design,  while  relieving  his  work  of  all  the  harshness 
and  technicality  of  Art.  In  the  most  rugged  of  wildernesses — 
in  the  most  savage  of  the  scenes  of  pure  Nature — there  is  appa- 
rent the  art  of  a  Creator ;  yet  is  this  art  apparent  only  to  reflec- 
tion ;  in  no  respect  has  it  the  obvious  force  of  a  feeling.  Now, 
if  we  imagine  this  sense  of  the  Almighty  Design  to  be  harmon- 
ized in  a  measurable  degree  ;  if  we  suppose  a  landscape  whose 
combined  strangeness,  vastness,  definitiveness,  and  magnificence, 
shall  inspire  the  idea  of  culture,  or  care,  or  superintendence,  on 
the  part  of  intelligences  superior  yet  akin  to  humanity — then 
the  sentiment  of  interest  is  preserved,  while  the  Art  is  made  to 
assume  the  air  of  an  intermediate  or  secondary  Nature — a  Nature 
which  is  not  God;  nor  an  emanation  of  God,  but  which  still  is 


THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDEN.  345 

Nature,  in  the  sense  that  it  is  the  handi-work  of  the  angels  that 
hover  between  man  and  God." 

It  was  in  devoting  his  gigantic  wealth  to  the  practical  embodi- 
ment of  a  vision  such  as  this — in  the  free  exercise  in  the  open 
air,  which  resulted  from  personal  direction  of  his  plans — in  the 
continuous  and  unceasing  object  which  these  plans  afforded 
— in  the  high  spirituality  of  the  object  itself — in  the  con- 
tempt of  ambition  which  it  enabled  him  more  to  feel  than 
to  affect — and,  lastly,  it  was  in  the  companionshr'p  *  nd  sympathy 
of  a  devoted  wife,  that  Ellison  thought  to  find,  and  found,  an 
exemption  from  the  ordinary  cares  of  Humanity,  with  a  far 
greater  amount  of  positive  happiness  than  ever  glowed  in  the 
rapt  day -dreams  of  De  Stiiel. 


MAF.LZI-L'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 


PERHAPS  no  exhibition  of  the  kind  has  ever  eKexted  so 
general  attention  as  the  Chess-Player  of  MaelzeL  Wherever 
seen  it  has  been  an  object  of  intense  cariosity,  to  all  persons  whc 
think.  Yet  the  question  of  its  modus  operandi  is  still  undeter- 
mined. Nothing  has  been  written  on  this  topic  which  can  b0 
considered  as  decisive — and  accordingly  we  find  everywhere 
men  of  mechanical  genius,  of  great  general  acuteness,  and  dis- 
criminative understanding,  who  make  no  scruple  in  |iUMimnriiig 
the  Automaton  a  pure  machine,  unconnected  with  human  agency 
in  its  movements,  and  consequently,  beyond  all  comparison,  the 
most  astonishing  of  the  inventions  of  mankind.  And  such  it 
would  undoubtedly  be,  were  they  right  in  their  supposition. 
Assuming  this  hypothesis,  it  would  be  grossly  absurd  to  compare 
with  the  Chess-Player,  any  similar  thing  of  either  modern  or 
ancient  days.  Tet  there  have  been  many  and  wonderfol  vatlt- 
mata.  In  Brewster's  Letters  on  Natural  Magic,  we  have  an 
account  of  the  most  remarkable.  Among  these  may  be  mention- 
ed, as  having  beyond  doubt  existed,  firstly,  the  coach  invented 
by  M.  Camus  for  the  amusement  of  Loois  XIY.  when  a  chDd, 
A  table,  about  four  feet  square,  was  introduced  into  the  room 
appropriated  for  the  exhibition.  Upon  this  table  was  placed  » 
carriage  six  inches  in  length,  made  of  wood,  and  drawn  by  two 
horses  of  the  same  material.  One  window  being  down,  a  lady 
wa*  seen  on  the  back  seat.  A  coachman  held  the  reins  on  the 
box,  and  a  footman  and  page  were  in  their  places  behind.  M. 
Camus  now  touched  a  spring;  whereupon  the  coachman 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  .      347 

his  whip,  and  the  horses  proceeded  in  a  natural  manner,  along 
the  edge  of  the  table,  drawing  after  them  the  carriage.  Having 
gone  as  far  as  possible  in  this  direction,  a  sudden  turn  was  made 
to  the  left,  and  the  vehicle  was  driven  at  right  angles  to  its 
former  course,  and  still  closely  along  the  edge  of  the  table.  In 
this  way  the  coach  proceeded  until  it  arrived  opposite  the  chair" 
of  the  young  prince.  It  then  stopped,  the  page  descended  and 
opened  the  door,  the  lady  alighted,  and  presented  a  petition  to 
her  sovereign.  She  then  re-entered.  The  page  put  up  the 
steps,  closed  the  door,  and  resumed  his  station.  The  coachman 
whipped  his  horses,  and  the  carriage  was  driven  back  to  its 
original  position. 

The  magician  of  M.  Maillardet  is  also  worthy  of  notice.  Wo 
copy  the  following  account  of  it  from  the  Letters  before  mentioned 
of  Dr.  B.,  who  derived  his  information  principally  from  the 
Edinburgh  Encyclopaedia. 

"  One  of  the  most  popular  pieces  of  mechanism  which  we 
have  seen,  is  the  Magician  constructed  by  M.  Maillardet,  for  the 
purpose  of  answering  certain  given  questions.  A  figure,  dressed 
like  a  magician,  appears  seated  at  the  bottom  of  a  wall,  holding 
a  wand  in  one  hand,  and  a  book  in  the  other.  A  number  of 
questions,  ready  prepared,  are  inscribed  on  oval  medallions,  and 
the  spectator  takes  any  of  these  he  chooses,  and  to  which  he 
wishes  an  answer,  and  having  placed  it  in  a  drawer  ready  to 
receive  it,  the  drawer  shuts  with  a  spring  till  the  answer  is  re- 
turned. The  magician  then  arises  from  his  seat,  bows  his  head, 
describes  circles  with  his  wand,  and  consulting  the  book  as  if  in 
deep  thought,  he  lifts  it  towards  his  face.  Having  thus  appeared 
to  ponder  over  the  proposed  question,  he  raises  his  wand,  and 
striking  with  it  the  wail  above  his  head,  two  folding  doors  fly 
open,  and  display  an  appropriate  answer  to  the  question.  The 
doors  again  close,  the  magician  resumes  his  original  position, 
und  the  drawer  opens  to  return  the  medallion.  There  are  twenty 
of  these  medallions,  all  containing  different  questions,  to  which 
the  magician  returns  the  most  suitable  and  striking  answers. 
The  medallions  are  thin  plates  of  brass,  of  an  elliptical  form, 
exactly  resembling  each  other.  Some  of  the  medallions  have  a 
question  inscribed  on  each  side,  both  of  which  the  magician 


»-W       .  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

answers  in  succession.  If  the  drawer  is  shut  without  a  medal 
lion  being  put  in  it,  the  magician  rises,  consults  his  book,  shakes 
his  head,  and  resumes  his  seat.  The  folding  doors  remain  shut, 
and  the  drawer  is  returned  empty.  If  two  medallions  are  put 
into  the  drawer  together,  an  answer  is  returned  only  to  the  lower 
one.  When  the  machinery  is  wound  up,  the  movements  con- 
tinue about  an  hour,  during  which  time  about  fifty  questions  may 
be  answered.  The  inventor  stated  that  the  means  by  which  the 
different  medallions  acted  upon  the  machinery,  so  as  to  produce 
the  proper  answers  to  the  questions  which  they  contained,  were 
extremely  simple." 

The  duck  of  Vaucanson  was  still  more  remarkable.  It  was 
of  the  size  of  life,  and  so  perfect  an  imitation  of  the  living 
animal  that  all  the  spectators  were  deceived.  It  executed,  says 
Brewster,  all  the  natural  movements  and  gestures,  it  eat  and 
drank  with  avidity,  performed  all  the  quick  motions  of  the  head 
and  throat  which  are  peculiar  to  the  duck,  and  like  it  muddled 
the  water  which  it  drank  with  its  bill.  It  produced  also  the 
sound  of  quacking  in  the  most  natural  manner.  In  the  anato- 
mical structure  the  artists  exhibited  the  highest  skill.  Every 
bone  in  the  real  duck  had  its  representative  in  the  automaton, 
and  its  wings  were  anatomically  exact.  Every  cavity,  apophysis, 
and  curvature  was  imitated,  and  each  bone  executed  its  proper 
movements.  When  corn  was  thrown  down  before  it,  the  duck 
stretched  out  its  neck  to  pick  it  up,  swallowed,  and  digested  it.* 

But  if  these  machines,  were  ingenious,  what  shall  we  think  of 
the  calculating  machine  of  Mr.  Babbage  ?  What  shall  we  think 
of  an  engine  of  wood  and  metal  which  can  not  only  compute  as- 
tronomical and  navigation  tables  to  any  given  extent,  but  render 
the  exactitude  of  its  operations  mathematically  certain  through 
its  power  of  correcting  its  possible  errors  ?  What  shall  we  think 
of  a  machine  which  can  not  only  accomplish  all  this,  but  actually 
print  off  its  elaborate  results,  when  obtained,  without  the  slight- 
est intervention  of  the  intellect  of  man  ?  It  will,  perhaps,  be 
said,  in  reply,  that  a  machine  such  as  we  have  described  is  alto- 

*  Under  the  head  Androides  in  the  Edinburgh  Encyclopaedia  may  be 
found  a  full  account  of  the  principal  automata  of  ancient  and  modem 
times. 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  319 

gether  above  comparison  with  the  Chess-Player  of  JMaelzel.  By 
no  means — it  is  altogether  beneath  it — that  is  to  say  provided  we 
assume  (what  should  never  for  a  moment  be  assumed)  that  the 
Chess-Player  is  a  pure  machine,  and  performs  it  operations  with- 
out any  immediate  human  agency.  Arithmetical  or  algebraical 
calculations  are,  from  their  very  nature,  fixed  and  determinate. 
Certain  data  being  given,  certain  results  necessarily  and  inevita- 
bly follow.  These  results  have  dependence  upon  nothing,  and 
are  influenced  by  nothing  but  the  data  originally  given.  And 
the  question  to  be  solved  proceeds,  or  should  proceed,  to  its  final 
determination,  by  a  succession  of  unerring  steps  liable  to  no 
change,  and  subject  to  no  modification.  This  being  the  case,  we 
can  without  difficulty  conceive  the  possibility  of  so  arranging  a 
piece  of  mechanism,  that  upon  starting  it  in  accordance  with  the 
data  of  the  question  to  be  solved,  it  should  continue  its  move 
ments  regularly,  progressively,  and  undeviatingly  towards  the 
required  solution,  since  these  movements,  however  complex,  are 
never  imagined  to  be  otherwise  than  finite  and  determina)3.  But 
the  case  is  widely  different  with  the  Chess-Player.  TV  ith  him 
there  is  no  determinate  progression.  No  one  move  in  •  ness  ne- 
cessarily follows  upon  any  one  other.  From  no  partii  alar  dis- 
position of  the  men  at  one  period  of  a  game  can  we  A>.edicate 
their  disposition  at  a  different  period.  Let  us  place  the  J  rst  move 
hi  a  game  of  chess,  in  juxta-position  with  the  data  of  afc  algebra- 
ical question,  and  their  great  difference  will  be  immedis  tely  per- 
ceived. From  the  latter — from  the  data — the  second  s  ep  of  the 
question,  dependent  thereupon,  inevitably  follows.  It  i.<  modeled 
by  the  data.  It  must  be  thus  and  not  otherwise.  But  from  the 
first  move  in  the  game  of  chess  no  especial  second  move  lollows 
of  necessity.  In  the  algebraical  question,  as  it  proceed)  towards 
solution,  the  certainty  of  its  operations  remains  altogether  unim- 
paired. The  second  step  having  been  a  consequence  of  the  data, 
the  third  step  is  equally  a  consequence  of  the  second,  the  fourth  of 
the  third,  the  fifth  of  the  fourth,  and  so  on,  and  not  possibly  other- 
wise, to  the  end.  But  in  proportion  to  the  progress  maoo  in  a 
game  of  chess,  is  the  uncertainty  of  each  ensuing  move-  A  few 
moves  having  been  made,  no  step  is  certain.  Different  spectators 
of  the  game  would  advise  different  moves.  All  is  then  uependent 


550 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYEll. 


upon  the  variable  judgment  of  the  players.  Now  even  granting 
(what  should  not  be  granted)  that  the  movements  of  the  Auto- 
maton Chess-Player  were  in  themselves  determinate,  they  would 
be  necessarily  interrupted  and  disarranged  by  the  indeterminate 
will  of  his  antagonist.  There  is  then  no  analogy  whatever  be- 
tween the  operations  of  the  Chess-Player,  and  those  of  the  cal 
culating  machine  of  Mr.  Babbage,  and  if  we  choose  to  call  the 
former  a  pure  machine  we  must  be  prepared  to  admit  that  it  is, 
beyond  all  comparison,  the  most  wonderful  of  the  inventions  of 
mankind.  Its  original  projector,  however,  Baron  Kempelen, 
had  no  scruple  in  declaring  it  to  be  a  "  very  ordinary  piece  of 
mechanism — a  bagatelle  whose  effects  appeared  so  marvellous 
only  from  the  boldness  of  the  conception,  and  the  fortunate 
choice  of  the  methods  adopted  for  promoting  the  illusion."  But 
it  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  this  point.  I-t  is  quite  certain  that 
the  operations  of  the  Automaton  are  regulated  by  mind,  and  by 
nothing  else.  Indeed  this  matter  is  susceptible  of  a  mathematu 
cal  demonstration,  a  priori.  The  only  question  then  is  of  the 
manner  in  which  human  agency  is  brought  to  bear.  Before  en- 
tering upon  this  subject  it  would  be  as  well  to  give  a  brief  his- 
tory and  description  of  the  Chess-Player  for  the  benefit  of  such 
of  our  readers  as  may  never  have  had  an  opportunity  of  witness- 
ing Mr.  Maelzel's  exhibition. 


The  Automaton  Chess-Player  was  invented  in  1769.  by  Baron 
Kempelen,  a  nobleman  of  Presburg,  in  Hungary,  who  afterwards 
disposed  of  it,  together  with  the  secret  of  its  operations,  to  its 
present  possessor.*  Soon  after  its  completion  it  was  exhibited 

*  This  was  written  in  1835,  when  Mr.  Maelzcl,  recently  deceased,  was 
exhibiting  the  Chess-Player  in  the  United  States.  It  is  now  (1855)  we  be- 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  361 

in  Presburgh,  Paris,  Vienna,  and  other  continental  cities.     In 

1783  and  1784,  it  was  taken  to  London  by  Mr.  Maelzel.     Of 

late  years  it  has  visited  the  principal  towns  in  the  United  States. 

Wherever  seen,  the  most  intense  curiosity  was  excited  by  its 

i  appearance,  and  numerous  have  been  the  attempts,  by  men  of  all 

I  classes,  to  fathom  the  mystery  of  its  evolutions.     The  cut  above 

'  gives  a  tolerable  representation  of  the  figure  as  seen  by  the  citi- 

Uens  of  Richmond  a  few  weeks  ago.     The  right  arm,  however, 

should  lie  more  at  length  upon   the  box,  a  chess-board  should 

appear  upon  it,  and  the  cushion  should   not  be  seen  while  the 

pipe  is  held.     Some  immaterial  alterations  have  been  made  in 

the  costume  of  the  player  since  it  came  into  the  possession  of 

Maelzel — the  plume,  for  example,  was  not  originally  worn. 

At  the  hour  appointed  for  exhibition,  a  curtain  is  withdrawn, 
or  folding-doors  are  thrown  open,  and  the  machine  rolled  to 
within  about  twelve  feet  of  the  nearest  of  the  spectators,  between 
whom  and  it  (the  machine)  a  rope  is  stretched.  A  figure  is  seen 
habited  as  a  Turk,  and  seated,  with  its  legs  crossed,  at  a  large 
box  apparently  of  maple  wood,  which  serves  it  as  a  table.  The 
exhibiter  will,  if  requested,  roll  the  machine  to  any  portion  of 
the  room,  suffer  it  to  remain  altogether  on  any  designated  spot, 
or  even  shift  its  location  repeatedly  during  the  progress  of  a 
game.  The  bottom  of  the  box  is  elevated  considerably  above 
the  floor  by  means  of  the  castors  or  brazen  rollers  on  which  it 
moves,  a  clear  view  of  the  surface  immediately  beneath  the  Au- 
tomaton being  thus  afforded  to  the  spectators.  The  chair  on 
which  the  figure  sits  is  affixed  permanently  to  the  box.  On  the 
top  of  this  latter  is  a  chess-board,  also  permanently  affixed.  The 
right  arm  of  the  Chess-Player  is  extended  at  full  length  before 
him,  at  right  angles  with  his  body,  and  lying,  in  an  apparent- 
ly careless  position,  by  the  side  of  the  board.  The  back 
of  the  hand  is  upwards.  The  board  itself  is  eighteen  inches 
square.  The  left  arm  of  the  figure  is  bent  at  the  elbow,  and  in 
the  left  hand  is  a  pipe.  A  green  drapery  conceals  the  back  of 
the  Turk,  and  falls  partially  over  the  front  of  both  shoulders. 
To  judge  from  the  external  appearance  of  the  box,  it  is  divided 

lieve,  in  the  possession  of  Prof  J.  K.  Mitchell,  M.  D.,  of  Philadelphia. — 
Editor 


352  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLASTER. 

inlo  five  compartments — three  cupboards  of  equal  dimension^ 
and  two  drawers  occupying  that  portion  of  the  chest  lying  be- 
neath the  cupboards.  The  foregoing  observations  apply  to  the 
appearance  of  the  Automaton  upon  its  first  introduction  into  the 
presence  of  the  spectators. 

Maelzel  now  informs  the  company  that  he  will  disclose  to 
their  view  the  mechanism  of  the  machine.  Taking  from  his 
pocket  a  bunch  of  keys  he  unlocks  with  one  of  them,  door  marked 
1  in  the  cut  above,  and  throws  the  cupboard  fully  open  to  the 
inspection  of  all  present.  Its  whole  interior  is  apparently  filled 
with  wheels,  pinions,  levers,  and  other  machinery,  crowded  very 
closely  together,  so  that  the  eye  can  penetrate  but  a  little  dis- 
tance into  the  mass.  Leaving  this  door  open  to  its  full  extent, 
he  goes  now  round  to  the  back  of  the  box,  and  raising  the  dra- 
pery of  the  figure,  opens  another  door  situated  precisely  in  the 
rear  of  the  one  first  opened.  Holding  a  lighted  candle  at  this 
door,  and  shifting  the  position  of  the  whole  machine  repeatedly 
at  the  same  time,  a  bright  light  is  thrown  entirely  through  the 
cupboard,  which  is  now  clearly  seen  to  be  full,  completely 
full,  of  machinery.  The  spectators  being  satisfied  of  this  fact, 
Maelzel  closes  the  back  door,  locks  it,  takes  the  key  from  the 
lock,  lets  fall  the  drapery  of  the  figure,  and  comes  round  to  the 
front.  The  door  marked  1,  it  will  be  remembered,  is  still  open. 
The  exhibiter  now  proceeds  to  open  the  drawer  which  lies  be- 
neath the  cupboards  at  the  bottom  of  the  box — for  although  there 
are  apparently  two  drawers,  there  is  really  only  one — the  two 
handles  and  two  key  holes  being  intended  merely  for  ornament. 
Having  opened  this  drawer  to  its  full  extent,  a  small  cushion, 
and  a  set  of  chessmen,  fixed  in  a  frame  work  made  to  support 
them  perpendicularly,  are  discovered.  Leaving  this  drawer,  as 
well  as  cupboard  No.  1  open,  Maelzel  now  unlocks  door  No.  2. 
and  door  No.  3,  which  are  discovered  to  be  folding  doors,  open- 
ing into  one  and  the  same  compartment.  To  the  right  of  this 
compartment,  however,  (that  is  to  say  the  spectators'  right,)  a 
small  division,  six  inches  wide,  and  filled  with  machinery,  is 
partitioned  off.  The  main  compartment  itself  (in  speaking  of 
that  portion  of  the  box  visible  upon  opening  doors  2  and  3,  we 
shall  always  call  it  the  main  compartment)  is  lined  with  dark 


MAELZEL'S    CHESS-PLAYER.  353 

cloth  and  contains  no  machinery  whatever  beyond  two  pieces  of 
Eteel,  quadrant-shaped,  and  situated  one  in  each  of  the  rear  top 
corners  of  the  compartment.  A  small  protuberance  about  eight 
inches  square,  and  also  covered  with  dark  cloth,  lies  on  the  floor 
of  the  compartment  near  the  rear  corner  on  the  spectators'  left 
hand.  Leaving  doors  No.  2  and  No.  3  open  as  well  as  the 
drawer,  and  door  No.  1,  the  exhibiter  now  goes  round  to  the 
back  of  the  main  compartment,  and,  unlocking  another  door 
there,  displays  clearly  all  the  interior  of  the  main  compartment, 
by  introducing  a  candle  behind  it  and  within  it.  The  whole  box 
being  thus  apparently  disclosed  to  the  scrutiny  of  the  company, 
Maelzel,  still  leaving  the  doors  and  drawer  open,  rolls  the  Auto- 
maton entirely  round,  and  exposes  the  back  of  the  Turk  by  lift 
ing  up  the  drapery.  A  door  about  ten  inches  square  is  thrown 
open  in  the  loins  of  the  figure,  and  a  smaller  one  also  in  the  left 
thigh.  The  interior  of  the  figure,  as  seen  through  these  aper- 
tures, appears  to  be  crowded  with  machinery.  In  general,  every 
spectator  is  now  thoroughly  satisfied  of  having  beheld  and  com- 
pletely scrutinized,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  every  individual 
portion  of  the  Automaton,  and  the  idea  of  any  person  being  con- 
cealed in  the  interior,  during  so  complete  an  exhibition  of  that 
interior,  if  ever  entertained,  is  immediately  dismissed  as  prepos- 
terous in  the  extreme. 

M.  Maelzel,  having  rolled  the  machine  back  into  its  original 
position,  now  informs  the  company  that  the  Automaton  will  play 
a  game  of  chess  with  any  one  disposed  to  encounter  him.  This 
challenge  being  accepted,  a  small  table  is  prepared  for  the  anta- 
gonist, and  placed  close  by  the  rope,  but  on  the  spectators'  side  of 
it,  and  so  situated  as  not  to  prevent  the  company  from  obtaining 
a  full  view  of  the  Automaton.  From  a  drawer  in  this  table  is 
taken  a  set  of  chess-men,  and  Maelzel  arranges  them  generally, 
but  not  always,  with  his  own  hands,  on  the  chess  board,  which 
consists  merely  of  the  usual  number  of  squares  painted  upon  the 
table.  The  antagonist  having  taken  his  seat,  the  exhibiter  ap- 
proaches the  drawer  of  the  box,  and  takes  therefrom  the  cushion, 
which  after  removing  the  pipe  from  the  hand  of  the  Automaton, 
be  places  under  its  left  arm  as  a  support.  Then  taking  also 
from  the  drawer  the  Automaton's  set  of  chess-men,  he  arranges 


»<>4  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

them  upon  the  chess-board  before  the  figure.  He  now  proceeds 
to  close  the  doors  and  to  lock  them — leaving  the  bunch  of  keys 
in  door  No.  1.  He  also  closes  the  drawer,  and,  finally,  winds 
up  the  machine,  by  applying  a  key  to  an  aperture  in  the  left  end 
(the  spectator's  left)  of  the  box.  The  game  now  commences — • 
the  Automaton  taking  the  first  move.  The  duration  of  the  con 
test  is  usually  limited  to  half  an  hour,  but  if  it  be  not  finished  at 
the  expiration  of  this  period,  and  the  antagonist  still  contend  that 
he  can  beat  the  Automaton,  M.  Maelzel  has  seldom  any  objec- 
tion to  continue  it.  Not  to  weary  the  company,  is  the  ostensible, 
and  no  doubt  the  real  object  of  the  limitation.  It  will  of  course 
be  understood  that  when  a  move  is  made  at  his  own  table,  by 
the  antagonist,  the  corresponding  move  is  made  at  the  box  of  the 
Automaton,  by  Maelzel  himself,  who  then  acts  as  the  represent 
ative  of  the  antagonist.  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  Turk 
moves,  the  corresponding  move  is  made  at  the  table  of  the  anta- 
gonist, also  by  M.  Maelzel,  who  then  acts  as  the  representative 
of  the  Automaton.  In  this  manner  it  is  necessary  that  the  ex- 
hibiter  should  often  pass  from  one  table  to  the  other.  He  also 
frequently  goes  in  the  rear  of  the  figure  to  remove  the  chess-men 
which  it  has  taken,  and  which  it  deposits  when  taken,  on  the  box 
to  the  left  (to  its  own  left)  of  the  board.  When  the  Automaton 
hesitates  in  relation  to  its  move,  the  exhibiter  is  occasionally  seen 
to  place  himself  very  near  its  right  side,  and  to  lay  his  hand  now 
and  then,  in  a  careless  manner  upon  the  box.  He  has  also  a 
peculiar  shuffle  with  his  feet,  calculated  to  induce  suspicion  of 
collusion  with  the  machine  in  minds  which  are  more  cunning  than 
sagacious.  These  peculiarities,  are,  no  doubt,  mere  mannerisms 
of  M.  Maelzel,  or,  if  he  is  aware  of  them  at  all,  he  puts  them  in 
practice  with  a  view  of  exciting  in  the  spectators  a  false  idea  of 
(.he  pure  mechanism  in  the  Automaton. 

The  Turk  plays  with  his  left  hand.  All  the  movements  of  the 
arm  are  at  right  angles.  In  this  manner,  the  hand  (which  is 
gloved  and  bent  in  a  natural  way),  being  brought  directly  above 
the  piece  to  be  moved,  descends  finally  upon  it,  the  fingers  re- 
ceiving it,  in  most  cases,  without  difficulty.  Occasionally,  how- 
ever, when  the  piece  is  not  precisely  in  its  proper  situation,  the 
Automaton  fails  in  his  attempt  at  seizing  it.  When  this  occurs, 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLACER  355 

no  second  effort  is  made,  but  the  arm  continues  its  movement  in 
the  direction  originally  intended,  precisely  as  if  the  piece  were 
in"  the  fingers  Having  thus  designated  the  spot  whither  the 
move  should  have  been  made,  the  arm  returns  to  its  cushion,  and 
Maelzel  performs  the  evolution  which  the  Automaton  pointed 
out.  At  every  movement  of  the  figure  machinery  is  heard  in 
motion.  During  the  progress  of  the  game,  the  figure  now  and 
then  rolls  its  eyes,  as  if  surveying  the  board,  moves  its  head, 
and  pronounces  the  word  echec  (check)  when  necessary.*  If  a 
false  move  be  made  by  his  antagonist,  he  raps  briskly  on  the 
box  with  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  shakes  his  head  roughly, 
and  replacing  the  pieces  falsely  moved,  in  its  former  situation, 
assumes  the  next  move  himself.  Upon  beating  the  game,  he 
•waves  his  head  with  an  air  of  triumph,  looks  around  complacently 
upon  the  spectators,  and  drawing  his  left  arm  farther  back  than 
usual,  suffers  his  fingers  alone  to  rest  upon  the  cushion.  In 
general,  the  Turk  is  victorious — once  or  twice  he  has  been 
beaten.  The  game  being  ended,  Maelzel  will  again,  if  desired, 
exhibit  the  mechanism  of  the  box,  in  the  same  manner  as  before. 
The  machine  is  then  rolled  back,  and  a  curtain  hides  it  from  the 
view  of  the  company. 

There  have  been  many  attempts  at  solving  the  mystery 
of  the  Automaton.  The  most  general  opinion  in  relation  to  it, 
an  opinion  too  not  unfrequently  adopted  by  men  who  should  have 
known  better,  was,  as  we  have  before  said,  that  no  immediate 
human  agency  was  employed — in  other  words,  that  the  machine 
was  purely  a  machine  and  nothing  else.  Many,  however,  main- 
tained that  the  exhibitor  himself  regulated  the  movements  of 
the  figure  by  mechanical  means  operating  through  the  feet  of 
the  box.  Others,  again  spoke  confidently  of  a  magnet.  Of  the 
first  of  these  opinions  we  shall  say  nothing  at  present  more  than  we 
have  already  said.  In  relation  to  the  second  it  is  only  necessary 
to  repeat  what  we  have  before  stated,  that  the  machine  is 
rolled  about  on  castors,  and  will,  at  the  request  of  a  spectator, 

*  The  making  the  Turk  pronounce  the  word  echec,  is  an  improvement  by 
M.  Maelzel.  When  in  possession  of  Baron  Kempelen,  the  figure  indicated 
a  check  by  rapping  on  the  box  with  his  right  hand. 


356  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

be  moved  to  and  fro  to  any  portion  of  the  room,  even  during  the 
progress  of  the  game.  The  supposition  of  the  magnet  is  also 
untenable — for  if  a  magnet  were  the  agent,  any  other  magnet  in 
the  pocket  of  a  spectator  would  disarrange  the  entire  mechanism. 
The  exhibitor,  however,  will  suffer  the  most  powerful  loadstono 
to  remain  even  upon  the  box  during  the  whole  of  the  exhibi- 
tion. 

The  first  attempt  at  a  written  explanation  of  the  secret,  at 
;east  the  first  attempt  of  which  we  ourselves  have  any  knowledge, 
was  made  in  a  large  pamphlet  printed  at  Paris  in  1785.  The 
author's  hypothesis  amounted  to  this — that  a  dwarf  actuated  the 
machine.  This  dwarf  he  supposed  to  conceal  himself  during  th« 
opening  of  the  box  by  thrusting  his  legs  into  two  hollow  cylinders, 
which  were  represented  to  be  (but  which  are  not)  among  the 
machinery  in  the  cupboard  No.  1,  while  his  body  was  out  of  the. 
box  entirely,  and  covered  by  the  drapery  of  the  Turk.  When 
the  doors  were  shut,  the  dwarf  was  enabled  to  bring  his  body 
within  the  box — the  noise  produced  by  some  portion  of  the 
machinery  allowing  him  to  do  so  unheard,  and  also  to  close  the 
door  by  which  he  entered.  The  interior  of  the  automaton  being 
then  exhibited,  and  no  person  discovered,  the  spectators,  says  the 
author  of  this  pamphlet,  are  satisfied  that  no  one  is  within  any 
portion  of  the  machine.  The  whole  hypothesis  was  too  obviously 
absurd  to  require  comment,  or  refutation,  and  accordingly  we 
find  that  it  attracted  very  little  attention. 

In  1789  a  book  was  published  at  Dresden  by  M.  I.  F.  Frey 
here  in  which  another  endeavor  was  made  to  unravel  the  mys- 
tery. Mr.  Freyhere's  book  was  a  pretty  large  one,  and  copiously 
illustrated  by  colored  engravings.  His  supposition  was  that  "  a 
well-taught  boy  very  thin  and  tall  of  his  age  (sufficiently  so  that 
he  could  be  concealed  in  a  drawer  almost  immediately  under  the 
chess-board")  played  the  game  of  chess  and  effected  all  the 
evolutions  of  the  Automaton.  This  idea,  although  even  more 
siilly  than  that  of  the  Parisian  author,  met  with  a  better  recep- 
tion, and  was  in  some  measure  believed  to  be  the  true  solution 
of  the  wonder,  until  the  inventor  put  an  end  to  the  discussion  by 
suffering  a  close  examination  of  the  top  of  the  box. 

These  bizarre  attempts  at  explanation  were  followed  by  others 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  351 

equally  bizarre.  Of  late  years,  however,  an  anonymous  writer, 
by  a  course  of  reasoning  exceedingly  unphilosophical,  has  con- 
trived to  blunder  upon  a  plausible  solution — although  we  cannot 
consider  it  altogether  the  true  one.  His  Essay  was  first  pub- 
lished in  a  Baltimore  weekly  paper,  was  illustrated  by  cuts,  and 
was  entitled  "  An  attempt  to  analyze  the  Automaton  Chess-Player  i 
of  M.  Mac.-lzel."  This  Essay  we  suppose  to  have  been  the  ori-  • 
ghuil  of  the  pamphlet  to  which  Sir  David  Brewster  alludes  in 
his  letters  on  Natural  Magic,  and  which  he  has  no  hesitation  in 
declaring  a  thorough  and  satisfactory  explanation.  The  results 
of  the  analysis  are  undoubtedly,  in  the  main,  just;  but  we  can 
only  account  for  Brewster's  pronouncing  the  Essay  a  thorough 
and  satisfactory  explanation,  by  supposing  him  to  have  bestowed 
upon  it  a  very  cursory  and  inattentive  perusal.  In  the  compen- 
dium of  the  Essay,  made  use  of  in  the  Letters  on  Natural  Magic, 
it  is  quite  impossible  to  arrive  at  any  distinct  conclusion  in  regard 
to  the  adequacy  or  inadequacy  of  the  analysis,  on  account  of  the 
gross  misarrangement  and  deficiency  of  the  letters  of  reference 
employed.  The  same  fault  is  to  be  found  in  the  "  Attempt,"  &c., 
as  we  originally  saw  it.  The  solution  consists  in  a  series  of  mi- 
nute explanations,  (accompanied  by  wood-cuts,  the  whole  occu- 
pying many  pages)  in  which  the  object  is  to  show  the  possibility 
of  so  shifting  the  partitions  of  the  box,  as  to  allow  a  human  being, 
concealed  in  the  interior,  to  move  portions  of  his  body  from  one 
part  of  the  box  to  another,  during  the  exhibition  of  the  mecha- 
nism— thus  eluding  the  scrutiny  of  the  spectators.  There  can  be 
no  doubt,  as  we  have  before  observed,  and  as  we  will  presently 
endeavor  to  show,  that  the  principle,  or  rather  the  result  of  this 
.solution  is  the  true  one.  Some  person  is  concealed  in  the  box 
during  the  whole  time  of  exhibiting  the  interior.  We  object, 
however,  to  the  whole  verbose  description  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  partitions  are  shifted,  to  accommodate  the  movements  of  the 
person  concealed.  We  object  to  it  as  a  mere  theory  assumed 
in  the  first  place,  and  to  which  circumstances  are  afterwards  made 
to  adapt  themselves.  It  was  not,  and  could  not  have  been,  arrived 
at  by  any  inductive  reasoning.  In  whatever  way  the  shifting  is 
managed,  it  is  of  course  concealed  at  every  step  from  observation. 
To  show  that  certain  movements  might  possibly  be  effected  in  a 


358  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

certain  way,  is  very  far  from  showing  that  they  are  actually  sc 
effected.  There  may  be  an  infinity  of  other  methods  by  which 
the  same  results  may  be  obtained.  The  probability  of  the  one 
assumed  proving  the  correct  one  is  then  as  unity  to  infinity.  But, 
in  reality,  this  particular  point,  the  shifting  of  the  partitions,  is 
of  no  consequence  whatever.  It  was  altogether  unnecessary  to 
devote  seven  or  eight  pages  for  the  purpose  of  proving  what  no 
one  in  his  senses  would  deny — viz  :  that  the  wonderful  mechani- 
cal genius  of  Baron  Kempelen  could  invent  the  necessary  means 
for  shutting  a  door  or  slipping  aside  a  panel,  with  a  human  agent 
too  at  his  service  in  actual  contact  with  the  panel  or  the  door, 
and  the  whole  operations  carried  on,  as  the  author  of  the  Essay 
himself  shows,  and  as  we  shall  attempt  to  show  more  fully  here- 
after, entirely  out  of  reach  of  the  observation  of  the  spectators. 

In  attempting  ourselves  an  explanation  of  the  Automaton,  we 
will,  in  the  first  place,  endeavor  to  show  how  its  operations  are 
effected,  and  afterwards  describe,  as  briefly  as  possible,  the  na- 
ture of  the  observations  from  which  we  have  deduced  our  result. 

It  will  be  necessary  for  a  proper  understanding  of  the  subject, 
that  we  repeat  here  in  a  few  words,  the  routine  adopted  by  the 
exhibiter  in  disclosing  the  interior  of  the  box — a  routine  from 
which  he  never  deviates  in  any  material  particular.  In  the  first 
place  he  opens  the  door  No.  1.  Leaving  this  open,  he  goes  round 
to  the  rear  of  the  box,  and  opens  a  door  precisely  at  the  back  of 
door  No.  1.  To  this  back  door  he  holds  a  lighted  candle.  He 
then  closes  the  back  door,  locks  it,  and,  coining  round  to  the  front, 
opens  the  drawer  to  its  full  extent.  This  done,  he  opens  the 
doors  No.  2  and  No.  3,  (the  folding  doors)  and  displays  the  in- 
terior of  the  main  compartment.  Leaving  open  the  main  com- 
partment, the  drawer,  and  the  front  door  of  cupboard  No.  1,  he 
now  goes  to  the  rear  again,  and  throws  open  the  back  door  of 
the  main  compartment.  In  shutting  up  the  box  no  particular 
order  is  observed,  except  that  the  folding  doors  are  always  closed 
before  the  drawer. 

Now,  let  us  suppose  that  when  the  machine  is  first  rolled  into 
the  presence  of  the  spectators,  a  man  is  already  within  it.  His 
body  is  situated  behind  the  dense  machinery  in  cupboard  No.  1, 
'the  rear  portion  of  which  machinery  is  so  contrived  as  to  slip 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  359 

en  masse,  from  the  main  compartment  to  the  cupboard  No,  1,  as 
occasion  may  require,)  and  his  legs  lie  at  full  length  in  the  main 
compartment.  When  Maelzel  opens  the  door  No.  1,  the  man 
within  is  not  in  any  danger  of  discovery,  for  the  keenest  eye 
cannot  penetrate  more  than  about  two  inches  into  the  darkness 
within.  But  the  case  is  otherwise  when  the  back  door  of  the 
cupboard  No.  1,  is  opened.  A  bright  light  then  pervades  the 
cupboard,  and  the  body  of  the  man  would  be  discovered  if  it 
were  there.  But  it  is  not.  The  putting  the  key  in  the  lock  of 
the  back  door  was  a  signal  on  hearing  which  the  person  con 
cealed  brought  his  body  forward  to  an  angle  as  acute  as  possible 
— throwing  it  altogether,  or  nearly  so,  into  the  main  compartment. 
This,  however,  is  a  painful  position,  and  cannot  be  long  main- 
tained. Accordingly  we  find  that  Maelzel  closes  the  back  door. 
This  being  done,  there  is  no  reason  why  the  body  of  the-  man 
may  not  resume  its  former  situation — for  the  cupboard  is  again 
no  dark  as  to  defy  scrutiny.  The  drawer  is  now  opened,  and  the 
legs  of  the  person  within  drop  down  behind  it  in  the  space  it 
formerly  occupied.*  There  is,  consequently,  now  no  longer  any 
part  of  the  man  in  the  main  compartment — his  body  being  be- 
hind the  machinery  in  cupboard  No.  1,  and  his  legs  in  the  space 
occupied  by  the  drawer.  The  exhibiter,  therefore,  finds  himself 
at  liberty  to  display  the  main  compartment.  This  he  does — 
opening  both  its  back  and  front  doors — and  no  person  is  discov- 
ered. The  spectators  are-  now  satisfied  that  the  whole  of  the 
box  is  exposed  to  view — and  exposed  too,  all  portions  of  it  af 
one  and  the  same  time.  But  of  course  this  is  not  the  case.  They 
neither  see  the  space  behind  the  drawer,  nor  the  interior  of  cup-- 
board No.  1 — the  front  door  of  which  latter  the  exhibiter  virtu- 
ally shuts  in  shutting  its  back  door  Maelzel,  having  now  rolled 
the  machine  around,  lifted  up  the  drapery  of  the  Turk,  opened 
the  doors  in  his  back  and  thigh,  and  shown  his  trunk  to  be  full 
of  machinery,  brings  the  whole  back  into  its  original  position,  and 

*  Sir  David  Brewster  supposes  that  there  is  always  a  large  space  behind 
this  drawer  even  when  shut — in  other  words  that  the  drawer  is  a  "  false 
drawer,"  and  does  not  extend  to  the  back  of  the  box.  But  the  idea  is  alto- 
gether untenable.  So  common-place  a  trick  would  be  immediately  discov- 
ered— especially  as  the  drawer  is  always  opened  to  its  full  extent,  and  an 
opportunity  thus  offered  of  comparing  its  depth  with  that  of  the  box 


MO  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

closes  the  doors.  The  man  within  is  now  at  liberty  to  mov.. 
about.  He  gets  up  into  the  body  of  the  Turk  just  so  high  as  to 
bring  his  eyes  above  the  level  of  the  chess-board.  It  is  very 
probable  that  he  seats  himself  upon  the  little  square  block  or 
protuberance  which  is  seen  in  a  corner  of  the  main  compartment 
when  the  doors  are  open.  In  this  position  he  sees  the  chess- 
board through  the  bosom  of  the  Turk  which  is  of  gauze.  Bring- 
ing his  right  arm  across  his  breast  he  actuates  the  little  machi- 
nery necessary  to  guide  the  left  arm  and  the  fingers  of  the  figure. 
This  machinery  is  situated  just  beneath  the  left  shoulder  of  the 
Turk,  and  is  consequently  easily  reached  by  the  right  hand  of 
the  man  concealed,  if  we  suppose  his  right  arm  brought  across 
the  breast.  The  motions  of  the  head  and  eyes,  and  of  the  right 
arm  of  the  figure,  as  well  as  the  sound  echec  are  produced  by 
other  mechanism  in  the  interior,  and  actuated  at  will  by  the  man 
within.  The  whole  of  this  mechanism- -that  is  to  say  all  the 
mechanism  essential  to  the  machine — is  most  probably  contained 
within  the  little  cupboard  (of  about  six  inches  in  breadth)  parti- 
tioned off  at  the  right  (the  spectators'  right)  of  the  main  compart- 
ment. 

In  this  analysis  of  the  operations  of  the  Automaton,  we  have 
purposely  avoided  any  allusion  to  the  manner  in  which  the  par- 
titions are  shifted,  and  it  will  now  be  readily  comprehended  that 
this  point  is  a  matter  of  no  importance,  since,  by  mechanism 
within  the  ability  of  any  common  carpenter,  it  might  be  effected 
in  an  infinity  of  different  ways,  and  since  we  have  shown  that, 
however  performed,  it  is  performed  out  of  the  view  of  the  spec- 
tators. Our  result  is  founded  upon  the  following  observations 
taken  during  frequent  visits  to  the  exhibition  of  Maelzel.* 

1.  The  moves  of  the  Turk  are  not  made  at  regular  intervals 
of  time,  but  accommodate  themselves  to  the  moves  of  the  an- 
tagonist— although  this  point,  (of  regularity)  so  important  in  all 
kinds  of  mechanical  contrivance,  might  have  been  readily  brought 

*  Some  of  these  observations  are  intended  merely  to  prove  that  the  ma- 
chine must  be  regulated  f/y  mind,  and  it  may  be  thought  a  work  of  supere- 
rogation to  advance  i'arther  arguments  in  support  of  what  has  been  already 
fully  decided.  But  our  object  is  to  convince,  in  especial,  certain  of  oui 
friends  upon  whom  a  train  of  suggestive  reasoning  will  have  more  influence 
than  the  most  positive  a  priori  demonstration. 


MAELZELS   CHESS-PLAYER.  361 

about  by  limiting  the  time  allowed  for  the  moves  of  the  anta- 
gonist. For  example,  if  this  limit  were  three  minutes,  the 
moves  of  the  Automaton  might  be  made  at  any  given  intervals 
longer  than  three  minutes.  The  fact  then  of  irregularity,  when 
regularity  might  have  been  so  easily  attained,  goes  to  prove  that 
regularity  is  unimportant  to  the  action  of  the  Automaton — in 
other  words,  that  the  Automaton  is  not  a  pure  machine. 

2.  When  the  Automaton  is  about  to  move  a  piece,  a  distinct 
motion  is  observable  just  beneath  the  left  shoulder,  and  which 
motion  agitates  in  a  slight  degree,  the  drapery  covering  the  front 
of  the  left  shoulder.     This  motion  invariably  precedes,  by  about 
two   seconds,  the   movement  of  the  arm   itself — and   the  arm 
never,  in  any  instance,  moves  without  this  preparatory  motion 
in  the  shoulder.     Now  let  the  antagonist  move  a  piece,  and  let 
the  corresponding  move  be  made  by  Maelzel,  as  usual,  upon  the 
board  of  the  Automaton.     Then  let  the  antagonist   narrowly 
watch  the  Automaton,  until  he  detect  the  preparatory  motion  in 
the  shoulder.     Immediately  upon  detecting  this  motion,  and  be- 
fore the  arm  itself  begins  to  move,  let  him  withdraw  his  piece, 
as  if  perceiving  an  error  in  his  manoeuvre.     It  will  then  be  seen 
that  the  movement  of  the  arm,  which,  in  all  other  cases,  imme- 
diately succeeds  the  motion  in  the  shoulder,  is  withheld — is  not 
made — although  Maelzel  has  not  yet  performed,  on  the  board  of 
the  Automaton,  any  move  corresponding  to  the  withdrawal  of 
the  antagonist.     In  this  case,  that  the  Automaton  was  about  to 
move  is  evident — and  that  he  did  not  move,  was  an  effect  plainly 
produced  by  the  withdrawal  of  the  antagonist,  and  without  any 
intervention  of  Maelzel. 

This  fact  fully  proves,  1 — that  the  intervention  of  Maelzel,  in 
performing  the  moves  of  the  antagonist  on  the  board  of  the 
Automaton,  is  not  essential  to  the  movements  of  the  Automaton, 
2 — that  its  movements  are  regulated  by  mind — by  some  person 
who  sees  the  board  of  the  antagonist,  3 — that  its  movements  are 
not  regulated  by  the  mind  of  Maelzel,  whose  back  was  turned 
towards  the  antagonist  at  the  withdrawal  of  his  move. 

3.  The  Automaton  does  not  invariably  win  the  game.     "Were 
the  machine  a  pure  machine  this  would  not  be  the  case — it  would 
uhvays  win.     The  principle  being  discovered  by  which  a  nm- 


382  MAELZEL'S   CHESS-PLAYER. 

cliine  can  be  made  to  play  a  game  of  chess,  an  extension  of  the 
same  principle  would  enable  it  to  win  a  game — a  farther  exten- 
sion would  enable  it  to  win  all  games — that  is,  to  beat  any  pos- 
sible game  of  an  antagonist.  A  little  consideration  will  convince 
any  one  that  the  difficulty  of  making  a  machine  beat  all  games, 
is  not  in  the  least  degree  greater,  as  regards  the  principle  of  the 
operations  necessary,  than  that  of  making  it  beat  a  single  game. 
If  then  we  regard  the  Chess-Player  as  a  machine,  we  must  sup- 
pose, (what  is  highly  improbable)  that  its  inventor  preferred 
leaving  it  incomplete  to  perfecting  it — a  supposition  rendered 
still  more  absurd,  when  we  reflect  that  the  leaving  it  incomplete 
would  afford  an  argument  against  the  possibility  of  its  being  a 
pure  machine — the  very  argument  we  now  adduce. 

4.  When  the  situation  of  the  game  is  difficult  or  complex,  we 
never  perceive  the  Turk  either  shake  his  head  or  roll  his  eyes. 
It  is  only  when  his  next  move  is  obvious,  or  when  the  game  is 
so  circumstanced  that  to  a  man  in  the  Automaton's  place  there 
would  be  no  necessity  for  reflection.     Now  these  peculiar  move- 
ments of  the   head  and   eyes  are  movements   customary  with 
persons  engaged  in  meditation,  and  the  ingenious  Baron  Kempe- 
len  would  have  adapted  these  movements  (were  the  machine  a 
pure  machine)  to  occasions  proper  for  their  display — that  is,  to 
occasions  of  complexity.     But  the  reverse  is  seen  to  be  the  case, 
and  this  reverse  applies  precisely  to  our  supposition  of  a  man  in 
the  interior.     When  engaged   in  meditation  about  the  game  he 
has  no  time  to  think  of  setting  in  motion  the  mechanism  of  the 
Automaton  by  which  are  moved  the  head  and  the  eyes.     When 
the  game,  however,  is  obvious,  he  has  time  to  look  about  him, 
and,  accordingly,  we  see  the  head  shake  and  the  eyes  roll. 

5.  When  the  machine  is  rolled  round  to  allow  the  spectators 
an  examination  of  the  back  of  the  Turk,  and  when  his  drapery 
is  lifted  up  and  the  doors  in  the  trunk  aud  thigh  thrown  open, 
the  interior  of  the  trunk  is  seen  to  be  crowded  with  machinery. 
In   scrutinizing    this    machinery  while   the  Automaton   was  in 
motion,  that  is  to  say,  while  the  whole  machine  was  moving  on 
the  castors,  it  appeared  to  us  that  certain  portions  of  the  me- 
chanism changed  their  shape  and  position  in  a  degree  too  great 
to  be  accounted  for  by  the  simple  laws  of  perspective ;  and  sub 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  3U3 

sequent  examinations  convinced  us  that  these  undue  alterations 
were  attributable  to  mirrors  in  the  interior  of  the  trunk.  Tho 
introduction  of  mirrors  among  the  machinery  could  not  have 
been  intended  to  influence,  in  any  degree,  the  machinery  itself. 
Their  operation,  whatever  that  operation  should  prove  to  be, 
must  necessarily  have  reference  to  the  eye  of  the  spectator.  We 
at  once  concluded  that  these  mirrors  were  so  placed  to  multiply 
to  the  vision  some  few  pieces  of  machinery  within  the  trunk  so 
as  to  give  it  the  appearance  of  being  crowded  with  mechani  m. 
Now  the  direct  inference  from  this  is  that  the  machine  is  not  a 
pure  machine.  For  if  it  were,  the  inventor,  so  far  from  wishing 
its  mechanism  to  appear  complex,  and  using  deception  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  it  this  appearance,  would  have  been  especially 
desirous  of  convincing  those  who  witnessed  his  exhibition,  of 
the  simplicity  of  the  means  by  which  results  so  wonderful  were 
brought  about. 

G.  The  external  appearance,  and.  especially,  the  deportment 
of  the  Turk,  are,  when  we  consider  them  as  imitations  of  life, 
but  very  indifferent  imitations.  The  countenance  evinces  no 
ingenuity,  and  is  surpassed,  in  its  resemblance  to  the  human 
face,  by  the  very  commonest  of  wax-works.  The  eyes  roll 
unnaturally  in  the  head,  without  any  corresponding  motions  of 
the  lids  or  brows.  The  arm,  particularly,  performs  its  opera- 
tions in  an  exceedingly  stiff,  awkward,  jerking,  and  rectangular 
manner.  Now,  all  this  is  the  result  either  of  inability  in 
Maelzel  to  do  better,  or  of  intentional  neglect — accidental  ne- 
glect being  out  of  the  question,  when  we  consider  that  the  whole 
time  of  the  ingenious  proprietor  is  occupied  in  the  improvement 
of  his  machines.  Most  assuredly  we  must  not  refer  the  unlife- 
like  appearances  to  inability — for  all  the  rest  of  Maelzel's  auto- 
mata are  evidence  of  his  full  ability  to  copy  the  motions  and 
peculiarities  of  life  with  the  most  wonderful  exactitude.  The 
rope-dancers,  for  example,  are  inimitable.  When  the  clown 
laughs,  his  lips,  his  eyes,  his  eye-brows,  and  eye-lids — indeed, 
all  the  features  of  his  countenance — are  imbued  with  their  appro- 
priate expressions.  In  both  him  and  his  companion,  every 
gesture  is  so  entirely  easy,  and  free  from  the  semblance  of  arti- 
ficiality, that,  were  it  not  for  the  diminutiveness  of  their  size, 


S64  MAELZET/S  CHESS-PLAYER, 

and  the  fact  of  their  being  passed  from  one  spectator  to  another 
previous  to  their  exhibition  on  the  rope,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
convince  any  assemblage  of  persons  that  these  wooden  automata 
were  not  living  creatures.  We  cannot,  therefore,  doubt  Mr. 
Maelzel's  ability,  and  we  must  necessarily  suppose  that  lie  inten- 
tionally suffered  his  Chess-Player  to  remain  the  same  artificial 
and  unnatural  figure  which  Baron  Kempclen  (no  doubt  also 
through  design)  originally  made  it.  What  this  design  was  it  is 
not  difficult  to  conceive.  Were  the  Automaton  life-like  in  its 
motions,  the  spectator  would  be  more  apt  to  attribute  its  opera- 
tions to  their  true  cause,  (that  is,  to  human  agency  within)  than 
he  is  now,  when  the  awkward  and  rectangular  manoeuvres  con- 
vey the  idea  of  pure  and  unaided  mechanism. 

7.  When,  a  short  time  previous  to  the  commencement  of  the 
game,  the  Automaton  is  wound  up  by  the  exhibiter  as  usual,  an 
ear  in  any  degree  accustomed  to  the  sounds  produced  in  winding 
up  a  system  of  machinery,  will  not  fail  to  discover,  instanta- 
neously, that  the  axis  turned  by  the  key  in  the  box  of  the  Chess- 
Player,  cannot  possibly  be  connected  with  either  a  weight,  a 
spring,  or  any  system  of  machinery  whatever.     The  inference 
here  is  the  same  as  in  our  last  observation.     The  winding  up  is 
inessential  to  the  operations  of  the  Automaton,  and  is  performed 
with  the  design  of  exciting  in  the  spectators  the  false  idea  of 
mechanism. 

8.  When  the  question  is  demanded  explicitly  of  Maelzel — 
"Is  the  Automaton  a  pure  machine  or  not?"  his  reply  is  inva- 
riably the    same  —  "I  will    say  nothing   about   it."     Now  the 
notoriety  of  the  Automaton,  and  the  great  curiosity  it  has  every- 
where   excited,    are    owing   more   especially    to    the   prevalent 
opinion   that  it   is  a  pure  machine,  than  to  any  other  circum- 
stance.    Of  course,  then,  it  is  the  interest  of  the  proprietor  to 
represent  it  as  a  pure  machine.     And  what  more  obvious,  and 
more  effectual  method  could  there  be  of  impressing  the  spec- 
tators with  this  desired  idea,  than  a  positive  and  explicit  declara- 
tion to  that  effect  ?     On  the  other  hand,  what  more  obvious  and 
effectual  method  could  there  be  of  exciting  a  disbelief  in  the 
Automaton's  being  a  pure  machine,  than  by  withholding  such 
explicit  declaration  ?     For,  people  will  naturally  reason  thus, — 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  365 

It  is  Maelzcl's  interest  to  represent  this  thing  a  pure  machine— 
he  refuses  to  do  so,  directly,  in  words,  although  he  does  not 
scruple,  and  is  evidently  anxious  to  do  so,  indirectly  by  actions 
. — were  it  actually  what  he  wishes  to  represent  it  by  actions,  he 
would  gladly  avail  himself  o/  the  more  direct  testimony  of 
words — the  inference  is,  that  a  consciousness  of  its  not  being  a 
pure  machine,  is  the  reason  of  his  silence — his  actions  cannot 
implicate  him  in  a  falsehood — his  words  may. 

9.  When,  in  exhibiting  the  interior  of  the  box,  Maelzel  has 
thrown  open  the  door  No.  1,  and  also  the  door  immediately 
behind  it,  he  holds  a  lighted  candle  at  the  back  door  (as  men- 
tioned above),  and  moves  the  entire  machine  to  and  fro  with  a 
view  of  convincing  the  company  that  the  cupboard  No.  1  is 
entirely  filled  with  machinery.      When   the  machine  is    thus 
moved  about,  it  will  be  apparent  to  any  careful  observer,  that 
whereas  that  portion  of  the  machinery  near  the  front  door  No. 
1,  is  perfectly  steady  and  unwavering,  the  portion  farther  within 
fluctuates,  in  a  very  slight  degree,  with  the  movements  of  the 
machine.     This  circumstance  first  aroused  in  us  the  suspicion 
that  the  more  remote  portion  of  the  machinery  was  so  arranged 
as  to  be  easily  slipped,  en  masse,  from  its  position  when  occasion 
should  require  it.      This  occasion  we  have  already   stated  to 
occur  when  the  man  concealed  within  brings  his  body  into  an 
erect  position  upon  the  closing  of  the  back  door. 

10.  Sir  David  Brewster  states  the  figure  of  the  Turk  to  be 
of  the  size  of  life — but  in  fact  it  is  far  above  the  ordinary  size. 
Nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  err  in  our  notions  of  magnitude. 
The  body  of  the  Automaton  is  generally  insulated,  and,  having 
no  means  of  immediately  comparing  it  with  any  human   form, 
we  suffer  ourselves   to  consider  it  as  of  ordinary  dimensions. 
This   mistake   may,  however,  be   corrected   by  observing   the 
Chess-Player  when,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  the  exhibitor  ap- 
proaches it.     Mr.  Maelzel,  to  be  sure,  is  not  very  tall,  but  upon 
drawing   near   the   machine,  his   head  will   be  found  at  least 
eighteen  inches  below  the  head  of  the  Turk,  although  the  latter, 
it  will  be  remembered,  is  in  a  sitting  position. 

1 1 .  The  box  behind  which  the  Automaton  is  placed,  is  pre- 
cisely three  feet  six   inches  long,  two  feet  four  inches  deep,  and 


366  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

two  feet  six  inches  high.  These  dimensions  are  fully  sufficient 
for  the  accommodation  of  a  man  very  much  above  the  common 
size — and  the  main  compartment  alone  is  capable  of  holding  any 
ordinary  man  in  the  position  we  have  mentioned  as  assumed  by 
the  person  concealed.  As  these  are  facts,  which  any  one  who 
doubts  them  may  prove  by  actual  calculation,  we  deem  it  unne- 
cessary to  dwell  upon  them.  We  will  only  suggest  that,  although 
the  top  of  the  box  is  apparently  a  board  of  about  three  inches  in 
thickness,  the  spectator  may  satisfy  himself  by  stooping  and  look- 
ing up  at  it  when  the  main  compartment  is  open,  that  it  is  in  re- 
ality very  thin.  The  height  of  the  drawer  also  will  be  miscon- 
ceived by  those  who  examine  it  in  a  cursory  manner.  There  is 
a  space  of  about  three  inches  between  the  top  of  the  drawer  as 
seen  from  the  exterior,  and  the  bottom  of  the  cupboard — a  space 
which  must  be  included  in  the  height  of  the  drawer.  These 
contrivances  to  make  the  room  within  the  box  appear  less  than 
it  actually  is,  are  referrible  to  a  design  on  the  part  of  the  inven- 
tor, to  impress  the  company  again  with  a  false  idea,  viz.,  that  no 
human  being  can  be  accommodated  within  the  box. 

12.  The  interior  of  the  main  compartment  is  lined  throughout 
with  cloth.     This  cloth  we  suppose  to  have  a  twofold  object.     A 
portion  of  it  may  form,  when  tightly  stretched,  the  only  partitions 
which  there  is  any  necessity  for  removing  during  the  changes  of 
the  man's  position,  viz:   the  partition  betwoen  the  rear  of  the 
main  compartment  and  the  rear  of  cupboard  No,  1,  and  the  par- 
tition between  the  main  compartment,  ami  the,  ppace  behind  the 
drawer  when  open.     If  we  imagine  this  to  be  the  case,  the  diffi- 
culty of  shifting  the  partitions  vanishes  at  once,  if  indeed  any 
such  difficulty  could  be   supposed  under  any  circumstances  to 
exist.     The  second  object  of  the  cloth  is  to  deaden  and  render 
indistinct  all  sounds  occasioned  by  the  movements  of  the  person 
within. 

13.  The  antagonist  (as  we  have  before  observed^  is  not  suf- 
fered to  play  at  the  board  of  the  Automaton,  but  13  seated  at 
some  distance  from  the  machine.     The  reason  \vbi,ch,  most  pro- 
bably, would  be  assigned  for  this  circumstance,  it  thfr  question 
were  demanded,  is,  that  were  the  antagonist  otherwise  situated, 
his  person  would  intervene  between  the  machine  and  the  spec- 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  3C7 

tator?,  and  preclude  the  latter  from  a  distinct  view.  But  this 
difficulty  might  be  easily  obviated,  either  by  elevating  the  seats 
of  the  company,  or  by  turning  the  end  of  the  box  towards  them 
during  the  game.  The  true  cause  of  the  restriction  is,  perhaps, 
very  different.  Were  the  antagonist  seated  in  contact  with  the 
box,  the  secret  would  be  liable  to  discovery,  by  his  detecting, 
with  the  aid  of  a  quick  ear,  the  breathings  of  the  man  concealed. 

14.  Although  M.  Maelzel,  in  disclosing  the  interior  of  the  ma- 
chine, sometimes  slightly  deviates  from  the  routine  which  we  have 
pointed  out,  yet  never  in  any  instance  does  he  so  deviate  from  it 
as  to  interfere  with  our  solution.     For  example,  he  has  been 
known  to  open,  first  of  all  the  drawer — but  he  never  opens  the 
main  compartment  without  first  closing  the  back  door  of  cup- 
board No.  1 — he  never  opens  the  main  compartment  without  first 
pulling  out  the  drawer — he  never  shuts  the  drawer  without  first 
shutting  the  main  compartment — he  never  opens  the  back  door 
of  cupboard  No.  1  while  the  main  compartment  is  open — and  the 
game  of  chess  is  never  commenced  until  the  whole  machine  is 
closed.     Now,  if  it  were  observed  that  never,  in  any  single  in- 
stance, did  M.  Maelzel  differ  from  the  routine  we  have  pointed 
out  as  necessary  to  our  solution,  it  would  be  one  of  the  strongest 
possible  arguments  in  corroboration  of  it — but  the  argument  be- 
comes  infinitely  strengthened  if  we  duly  consider  the  circum- 
stance  that  he  does  occasionally  deviate  from  the  routine,  but 
never  does  so  deviate  as  to  falsify  the  solution. 

15.  There  are  six  candles  on  the  board  of  the  Automaton 
during  exhibition.     The  question  naturally  arises — "  Why  are 
so  many  employed,  when  a  single   candle,  or,  at  farthest,  two, 
would  have  been  amply  sufficient  to  afford  the  spectators  a  clear 
view  of  the  board,  in  a  room  otherwise  so  well  lit  up  as  the  ex- 
hibition room  always  is — when,  moreover,  if  we  suppose  the 
machine  a  pure  machine,  there  can  be  no  necessity  for  so  much 
light,  or  indeed  any  light  at  all,  to  enable  it  to  perform  its  ope- 
rations— and  when,  especially,  only  a  single  candle  is  placed  upon 
the  table  of  the  antagonist  ?"     The  first  and  most  obvious  infer- 
ence is,  that  so  strong  a  light  is  requisite  to  enable  the  man  with- 
in to  see  through  the  transparent  material  (probably  fine  gauze) 
of  which  the  breast  of  the  Turk  is  composed.     But  when  we 


368  MAELZEL'S  CHEbS-PLAYER. 

consider  the  arrangement  of  the  candles,  another  reason  immedi- 
ately presents  itself.  There  are  six  lights  (as  we  have  said 
before)  in  all.  Three  of  these  are  on  each  side  of  the  figure. 
Those  most  remote  from  the  spectators  are  the  longest — those  in 
the  middle  are  about  two  inches  shorter — and  those  nearest  the 
company  about  two  inches  shorter  still — and  the  candles  on  one 
side  ditf'er  in  height  from  the  candles  respectively  opposite  on  the 
other,  by  a  ratio  different  from  two  inches — that  is  to  say,  the 
longest  candle  on  one  side  is  about  three  inches  shorter  than  the 
longest  candle  on  the  other,  and  so  on.  Thus  it  will  be  seen 
that  no  two  of  the  candles  are  of  the  same  height,  and  thus  also 
the  difficulty  of  ascertaining  the  material  of  the  breast  of  the 
figure  (against  which  the  light  is  especially  directed)  is  greatly 
augmented  by  the  dazzling  effect  of  the  complicated  crossings  of 
the  rays — crossings  which  are  brought  about  by  placing  the  cen 
tres  of  radiation  all  upon  different  levels. 

16.  While  the  Chess-Player  was  in  possession  of  Baron  Kem- 
pelen,  it  was  more  than  once  observed,  first,  that  an  Italian  in 
the  suite  of  the  Baron  was  never  visible  during  the  playing  of  a 
game  at  chess  by  the  Turk,  and,  secondly,  that  the  Italian  being 
taken  seriously  ill,  the  exhibition  was  suspended  until  his  recov 
ery.  This  Italian  professed  a  total  ignorance  of  the  game  of 
chess,  although  all  others  of  the  suite  played  well.  Similar  obser- 
vations have  been  made  since  the  Automaton  has  been  purchased 
by  Maelzel.  There  is  a  man,  Schlwriberger,  who  attends  him 
wherever  he  goes,  but  who  has  no  ostensible  occupation  other  than 
that  of  assisting  in  the  packing  and  unpacking  of  the  automaton. 
This  man  is  about  the  medium  size,  and  has  a  remarkable  stoop 
in  the  shoulders.  Whether  he  professes  to  play  chess  or  not,  we 
are  not  informed.  It  is  quite  certain,  however,  that  he  is  never  to 
be  seen  during  the  exhibition  of  the  Chess-Player,  although  fre- 
quently visible  just  before  and  just  after  the  exhibition.  Moreover, 
come  years  ago  Maelzel  visited  Richmond  with  his  automata,  and 
exhibited  them,  we  believe,  in  the  house  now  occupied  by  M. 
Bossieux  as  a  Dancing  Academy.  Schlumberyer  was  suddenly 
taken  ill,  and  during  his  illness  there  was  no  exhibition  of  the 
Chess-Player.  These  facts  are  well  known  to  many  of  our  citi- 
zens. The  reason  assigned  for  the  suspension  of  the  Chess- 


MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER.  369 

Player'?  performances,  was  not  the  illness  of  Schlurribtrger.  The 
inferences  from  all  this  we  leave,  without  farther  comment,  to 
the  reader. 

17.  The  Turk  plays  with  his  left  arm.  A  circumstance  so 
remarkable  cannot  be  accidental.  Brewster  takes  no  notice  of 
it  whatever,  beyond  a  mere  statement,  we  believe,  that  such  ia 
the  fact.  The  early  writers  of  treatises  on  the  Automaton,  seem 
not  to  have  observed  the  matter  at  all,  and  have  no  reference  to 
it.  The  author  of  the  pamphlet  alluded  to  by  Brewster,  men- 
tions it,  but  acknowledges  his  inability  to  account  for  it.  Yet  it  is 
obviously  from  such  prominent  discrepancies  or  incongruities  as 
this  that  deductions  are  to  be  made  (if  made  at  all)  which  shall 
lead  us  to  the  truth. 

The  circumstance  of  the  Automaton's  playing  with  his  left 
hand  cannot  have  connexion  with  the  operations  of  the  machine, 
considered  merely  as  such.  Any  mechanical  arrangement  which 
would  cause  the  figure  to  move,  in  any  given  manner,  the  left 
arm — could,  if  reversed,  cause  it  to  move,  in  the  same  manner, 
the  right.  But  these  principles  cannot  be  extended  to  the  human 
organization,  wherein  there  is  a  marked  and  radical  difference 
in  the  construction,  and,  at  all  events,  in  the  powers,  of  the*right 
and  left  arms.  Reflecting  upon  this  latter  fact,  we  naturally 
refer  the  incongruity  noticeable  in  the  Chess-Player  to  this  pecu- 
liarity in  the  human  organization.  If  so,  we  must  imagine  some 
reversion — for  the  Chess-Player  plays  precisely  as  a  man  would 
not.  These  ideas,  once  entertained,  are  sufficient  of  themselves, 
to  suggest  the  notion  of  a  man  in  the  interior.  A  few  more  im 
perceptible  steps  lead  us,  finally,  to  the  result.  The  Automaton 
plays  with  his  left  arm,  because  under  no  other  circumstances 
could  the  man  within  play  with  his  right — a  desideratum  of  course. 
Let  us,  for  example,  imagine  the  Automaton  to  play  with  his  right 
Rrm.  To  reach  the  machinery  which  moves  the  arm,  and  which 
we  have  before  explained  to  lie  just  beneath  the  shoulder,  it 
would  be  necessary  for  the  man  within  either  to  use  his  right 
arm  in  an  exceedingly  painful  and  awkward  position,  (viz. 
brought  up  close  to  his  body  and  tightly  compressed  between  his 
body  and  the  side  of  the  Automaton,)  or  else  to  use  his  left  arm 
brought  across  his  breast.  In  neither  case  could  he  act  with  the 


370  MAELZEL'S  CHESS-PLAYER. 

requisite  ease  or  precision.  On  the  contrary,  the  Automaton 
playing,  as  it  actually  does,  with  the  left  arm,  all  difficulties  van- 
ish. The  right  arm  of  the  man  within  is  brought  across  his 
breast,  and  his  right  fingers  act,  without  any  constraint,  upon  the 
machinery  in  the  shoulder  of  the  figure. 

We  do  not  believe  that  any  reasonable  objections  can  De  urged 
n gainst  this  solution  of  the  Automaton  Chess-Player. 


THE  POWER  OF  WORDS. 


Oinos. — Pardon,  Agathos,  the  weakness  of  a  spirit  new-fledged 
with  immortality ! 

Agathos, — You  have  spoken  nothing,  my  Oinos,  for  which  par- 
don is  to  be  demanded.  Not  even  here  is  knowledge  a  thing 
of  intuition.  For  wisdom,  ask  of  the  angels  freely,  that  it  may 
be  given  ! 

Oinos. — But  in  this  existence,  I  dreamed  that  I  should  be  at 
once  cognizant  of  all  things,  and  thus  at  once  happy  in  being  cog- 
nizant of  all. 

Agathos. — Ah,  not  in  knowledge  is  happiness,  but  in  the  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge  !  In  for  ever  knowing,  we  are  for  ever  bless- 
ed ;  but  to  know  all,  were  the  curse  of  a  fiend. 

Oinos. — But  does  not  The  Most  High  know  all  ? 

Agathos. — That  (since  he  is  The  Most  Happy)  must  be  still 
the  one  thing  unknown  even  to  HIM. 

Oinos. — But,  since  we  grow  hourly  in  knowledge,  must  not 
at  last  all  things  be  known  ? 

Agathos. — Look  down  into  the  abysmal  distances  ! — attempt 
to  force  the  gaze  down  the  multitudinous  vistas  of  the  stars,  as  we 
sweep  slowly  through  them  thus — and  thus — and  thus  !  Even 
the  spiritual  vision,  is  it  not  at  all  points  arrested  by  the  continuous 
golden  walls  of  the  universe  ? — the  walls  of  the  myriads  of  the 
shining  bodies  that  mere  number  has  appeared  to  blend  into 
unity  ? 


372  THE  POWER  (W   WuRDS. 

Oinos. — I  clearly  perceive  that  the  infinity  of  matter  is  no 
dream. 

Agathos. — There  are  no  dreams  in  Aidenn — but  it  is  here 
whispered  that,  of  this  infinity  of  matter,  the  sole  purpose  is  to 
afford  infinite  springs,  at  which  the  soul  may  allay  the  thirst  to 
know  which  is  for  ever  unquenchable  within  it — since  to  quench 
it,  would  be  to  extinguish  the  soul's  self.  Question  me  then,  my 
Oinos,  freely  and  without  fear.  Come !  we  will  leave  to  the  left 
the  loud  harmony  of  the  Pleiades,  and  swoop  outward  from  the 
throne  into  the  starry  meadows  beyond  Orion,  where,  for  pansies 
and  violets,  and  heart's-ease,  are  the  beds  of  the  triplicate  and 
triple-tinted  suns. 

Oinos. — And  now,  Agathos,  as  we  proceed,  instruct  me ! — 
speak  to  me  in  the  earth's  familiar  tones  !  I  understood  not  what 
you  hinted  to  me,  just  now,  of  the  modes  or  of  the  methods  of 
•what,  during  mortality,  we  were  accustomed  to  call  Creation.  Do 
you  mean  to  say  that  the  Creator  is  not  God  ? 

Agathos. — I  mean  to  say  that  the  Deity  does  not  create. 

Oinos. — Explain ! 

Agathos. — In  the  beginning  only,  he  created.  The  seeming 
creatures  which  are  now,  throughout  the  universe,  so  perpetually 
springing  into  being,  can  only  be  considered  as  the  mediate  or 
indirect,  not  as  the  direct  or  immediate  results  of  the  Divine  crea- 
tive power. 

Oinos. — Among  men,  my  Agathos,  this  idea  would  be  consider- 
ed heretical  in  the  extreme. 

Agathos. — Among  angels,  my  Oinos,  it  is  seen  to  be  simply  true. 

Oinos. — I  can  comprehend  you  thus  far — that  certain  opera- 
tions of  what  we  term  Nature,  or  the  natural  laws,  will,  under 
certain  conditions,  give  rise  to  that  which  has  all  the  appearance 
of  creation.  Shortly  before  the  final  overthrow  of  the  earth,  there 
were,  I  well  remember,  many  very  successful  experiments  in  what 
tsome  philosophers  were  weak  enough  to  denominate  the  creation 
of  ardmalculse. 

Agathos. — The  cases  of  which  you  speak  were,  in  fact,  instances 
of  the  secondary  creation — and  of  the  only  species  of  creation 
which  has  ever  been,  since  the  first  word  spoke  into  existence  the 
first  law. 


THE  POWER  OF  WORDS.  373 

Oinos. — Are  not  the  starry  worlds  that,  fro  IE  the  abyss  of  non 
entity,  burst  hourly  forth  into  the  heavens — are  not  these  stars, 
Agathos,  the  immediate  handiwork  of  the  King  ? 

Agathos. — Let  me  endeavor,  my  Oinos,  to  lead  you,  step  by 
step,  to  the  conception  I  intend.  You  are  well  aware  that,  as 
no  thought  can  perish,  so  no  act  is  without  infinite  result.  We 
moved  our  hands,  for  example,  when  we  were  dwellers  on  the 
earth,  and,  in  so  doing,  we  gave  vibration  to  the  atmosphere  which 
engirdled  it.  This  vibration  was  indefinitely  extended,  till  it  gave 
impulse  to  every  particle  of  the  earth's  air,  which  thenceforward, 
and  for  ever,  was  actuated  by  the  one  movement  of  the  hand. 
This  fact  the  mathematicians  of  our  globe  well  knew.  They  made 
the  special  effects,  indeed,  wrought  in  the  fluid  by  special  impulses, 
the  subject  of  exact  calculation — so  that  it  became  easy  to  deter- 
mine in  what  precise  period  an  impulse  of  given  extent  would 
engirdle  the  orb,  and  impress  (for  ever)  every  atom  of  the  atmos- 
phere circumambient.  Retrograding,  they  found  no  difficulty,  from 
a  given  effect,  under  given  conditions,  in  determining  the  value  of 
the  original  impulse.  Now  the  mathematicians  who  saw  that  the 
results  of  any  given  impulse  were  absolutely  endless — and  who 
saw  that  a  portion  of  these  results  were  accurately  traceable  through 
the  agency  of  algebraic  analysis — who  saw,  too,  the  facility  of  the 
retrogradation — these  men  saw,  at  the  same  time,  that  this  species 
of  analysis  itself,  had  within  itself  a  capacity  for  indefinite  pro- 
gress— that  there  were  no  bounds  conceivable  to  its  advancement 
and  applicability,  except  within  the  intellect  cf  him  who  advanced 
or  applied  it.  But  at  this  point  our  mathematicians  paused. 

Oinos. — And  why,  Agathos,  should  they  have  proceeded  ? 

Agathos. — Because  there  were  some  considerations  of  deep 
interest  beyond.  It  was  deducible  from  what  they  knew,  that  to 
a  be:ng  of  infinite  understanding — one  to  whom  the  perfection  of 
the  algebraic  analysis  lay  unfolded — there  could  be  no  difficulty 
in  tracing  every  impulse  given  the  air — and  the  ether  through  the 
air — to  the  remotest  consequences  at  any  even  infinitely  remote 
epoch  of  time.  It  is  indeed  demonstrable  that  every  such  impulse 
given  the  air,  must,  in  the  end,  impress  every  individual  thing  that 
exists  within  the  universe  ; — and  the  being  of  infinite  understand- 
ing— the  being  whom  we  have  imagined — might  trace  the  remote 


874  THE  POWER  OF  WORDS. 

undulations  of  ilie  impulse — trace  them  upward  and  onward  in 
their  influences  upon  all  particles  of  all  matter — upward  and  on- 
ward for  ever  in  their  modifications  of  old  forms — or,  in  ether 
words,  in  their  creation  of  new — until  he  found  them  reflected — 
unimpressive  at  last — back  from  the  throne  of  the  Godhead.  And 
not  only  could  such  a  being  do  this,  but  at  any  epoch,  should  a 
given  result  be  afforded  him — should  one  of  these  numberless 
comets,  for  example,  be  presented  to  his  inspection — he  could 
have  no  difficulty  in  determining,  by  the  analytic  retrogradation, 
to  what  original  impulse  it  was  due.  This  power  of  retrogradation 
in  its  absolute  fulness  and  perfection — this  faculty  of  referring  at 
all  epochs,  all  effects  to  all  causes — is  of  course  the  prerogative 
of  the  Deity  alone — but  in  every  variety  of  degree,  short  of  the 
absolute  perfection,  is  the  power  itself  exercised  by  the  whole  host 
of  the  Angelic  Intelligences. 

Oinos. — But  you  speak  merely  of  impulses  upon  the  air. 

Agathos. — In  speaking  of  the  air,  I  referred  only  to  the  earth  : 
but  the  general  proposition  has  reference  to  impulses  upon  the 
ether — which,  since  it  pervades,  and  alone  pervades  all  space,  is 
thus  the  great  medium  of  creation. 

Oinos. — Then  all  motion,  of  whatever  nature,  creates  ? 

Agathos. — It  must :  but  a  true  philosophy  has  long  taught 
that  the  source  of  all  motion  is  thought — and  the  source  of  all 
thought  is 

Oinos. — God. 

Agathos. — I  have  spoken  to  you,  Oinos,  as  to  a  child  of  the  fair 
Earth  which  lately  perished — of  impulses  upon  the  atmosphere 
of  the  Earth. 

Oinos. — You  did. 

Agathos. — And  while  I  thus  spoke,  did  there  not  cross  your 
mind  some  thought  of  the  physical  power  of  words  ?  Is  not  every 
word  an  impulse  on  the  air  ? 

Oinos. — But  why,  Agathos,  do  you  weep — and  why,  oh  why 
do  your  wings  droop  as  we  hover  above  this  fair  star — which  is 
the  greenest  and  yet  most  terrible  of  all  we  have  encountered  in 
our  flight  ?  Its  brilliant  flowers  look  like  a  fairy  dream — but  its 
fierce  volcanoes  like  the  passions  of  a  turbulent  heart. 

Agathos. — They  are  ! — they  are  !     This  wild  star — it  is  now 


THE  POWER  OF  WORDS.  375 

three  centuries  since,  with  clasped  hands,  and  with  streaming  eyes, 
at  the  feet  of  my  beloved — I  spoke  it — with  a  few  passionate  sen- 
tences— into  birth.  Its  brilliant  flowers  are  the  dearest  of  all  un- 
fulfilled dreams,  and  its  raging  volcanoes  are  the  passions  of  the 
most  turbulent  and  unhallowed  of  hearts. 


THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  DMA 


MfXXovra  rawra' 

Sophocles — Antig  : 
These  things  are  in  the  future. 

Una.     "  Born  again  ?" 

Monos.  Yes,  fairest  and  best  beloved  Una,  "  born  again.'1 
These  were  the  words  upon  whose  mystical  meaning  I  had  so 
long  pondered,  rejecting  the  explanations  of  the  priesthood,  until 
Death  himself  resolved  for  me  the  secret. 

Una.     Death ! 

Monos.  How  strangely,  sweet  Una,  you  echo  my  words !  I 
observe,  too,  a  vacillation  in  your  step — a  joyous  inquietude  in 
your  eyes.  You  are  confused  and  oppressed  by  the  majestic 
novelty  of  the  Life  Eternal.  Yes,  it  was  of  Death  I  spoke.  And 
here  how  singularly  sounds  that  word  which  of  old  was  wont  to 
bring  terror  to  all  hearts — throwing  a  mildew  upon  all  pleas- 
ures ! 

Una.  Ah,  Death,  the  spectre  which  sate  at  all  feasts !  How 
often,  Monos,  did  we  lose  ourselves  in  speculations  upon  its  na- 
ture !  How  mysteriously  did  it  act  as  a  check  to  human  bliss — 
saying  unto  it  "  thus  far,  and  no  farther  !"  That  earnest  mutual 
love,  my  own  Monos,  which  burned  within  our  bosoms — how 
vainly  did  we  flatter  ourselves,  feeling  happy  in  its  first  up 
springing,  that  our  happiness  would  strengthen  with  its  strength ! 
Alas !  as  it  grew,  so  grew  in  our  hearts  the  dread  of  that  evil 
hour  which  was  hurrying  to  separate  us  forever !  Thus,  in 
time,  it  became  painful  to  love.  Hate  would  have  been  mercy 
then. 


THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA.  377 

Monos.  Speak  not  here  of  these  griefs,  dear  Una — mine, 
mine  Ibrever  now ! 

Una.  But  the  memory  of  past  sorrow — is  it  not  present  joy  ? 
I  have  much  to  say  yet  of  the  things  which  have  been.  Above 
all,  1  burn  to  know  the  incidents  of  your  own  passage  through 
the  dark  Valley  and  Shadow. 

Monos.  And  when  did  the  radiant  Una  ask  anything  of  her 
Monos  in  vain  ?  I  will  be  minute  in  relating  all — but  at  what 
point  shall  the  weird  narrative  begin  ? 

Una.     At  what  point  ? 

Monos.     You  have  said. 

Una.  Monos,  I  comprehend  you.  In  Death  we  have  both 
learned  the  propensity  of  man  to  define  the  indefinable.  I  will 
not  say,  then,  commence  with  the  moment  of  life's  cessation — 
but  commence  with  that  sad,  sad  instant  when,  the  fever  having 
abandoned  you,  you  sank  into  a  breathless  and  motionless  torpor, 
and  I  pressed  down  your  pallid  eyelids  with  the  passionate  fingers 
of  love. 

Monos.  One  word  first,  my  Una,  in  regard  to  man's  general 
condition  at  this  epoch.  You  will  remember  that  one  or  two  of 
the  wise  among  our  forefathers — wise  in  fact,  although  not  in  the 
world's  esteem — had  ventured  to  doubt  the  propriety  of  the  term 
"  improvement,"  as  applied  to  the  progress  of  our  civilization. 
There  were  periods  in  each  of  the  five  or  six  centuries  im- 
mediately preceding  our  dissolution,  when  arose  some  vigorous  in- 
tellect, boldly  contending  for  those  principles  whose  truth  appears 
now,  to  our  disenfranchised  reason,  so  utterly  obvious — principles 
which  should  have  taught  our  race  to  submit  to  the  guidance  of 
the  natural  laws,  rather  than  attempt  their  control.  At  long  in- 
tervals  some  master-minds  appeared,  looking  upon  each  advance 
in  practical  science  as  a  retro-gradation  in  the  true  utility.  Oc- 
casionally the  poetic  intellect — that  intellect  which  we  now  feel  to 
nave  been  the  most  exalted  of  all — since  those  truths  which  to  us 
were  of  the  most  enduring  importance  could  only  be  reached  by 
that  analogy  which  speaks  in  proof-tones  to  the  imagination  alone, 
and  to  the  unaided  reason  bears  no  weight— occasionally  did  this 
poetic  intellect  proceed  a  step  farther  in  the  evolving  of  the  vague 
idea  of  the  philosophic,  and  find  in  the  mystic  parable  that  tella 


378  THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA. 

of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  and  of  its  forbidden  fruit,  death-pio. 
ducing,  a  distinct  intimation  that  knowledge  was  not  meet  foi 
man  in  the  infant  condition  of  his  soul.  And  these  men — the 
poets — living  and  perishing  amid  the  scorn  of  the  "  utilitarians"— 
ot  lough  pedants,  who  arrogated  to  themselves  a  title  which 
could  have  been  properly  applied  only  to  the  scorned — these  men, 
the  poets,  pondered  piningly,  yet  not  unwisely,  upon  the  ancient 
lays  when  our  wants  were  not  more  simple  than  our  enjoyments 
were  keen — days  when  mirth  was  a  word  unknown,  so  solemnly 
deep-toned  was  happiness — holy,  august  and  blissful  days,  when 
blue  rivers  \an  undammed,  between  hills  unhewn,  into  far  forest 
solitudes,  primaeval,  odorous,  and  unexplored. 

Yet  these  noble  exceptions  from  the  general 'misrule  served  but 
to  strengthen  it  by  opposition.  Alas !  we  had  fallen  upon  the 
most  evil  of  all  our  evil  days.  The  great  "  movement" — that 
was  the  cant  term — went  on :  a  diseased  commotion,  moral  and 
physical.  Art — the  Arts — arose  supreme,  and,  once  enthroned, 
cast  chains  upon  the  intellect  which  had  elevated  them  to  power. 
Man,  because  he  could  not  but  acknowledge  the  majesty  of  Na- 
ture, fell  into  childish  exultation  at  his  acquired  and  still-in- 
creasing dominion  over  her  elements.  Even  while  he  stalked 
a  God  in  his  own  fancy,  an  infantine  imbecility  came  over  him. 
As  might  be  supposed  from  the  origin  of  his  disorder,  he  grew  in- 
fected with  system,  and  with  abstraction.  He  enwrapped  himsell 
in  generalities.  Among  other  odd  ideas,  that  of  universal  equal- 
ity gained  ground ;  and  in  the  face  of  analogy  and  of  God — in 
despite  of  the  loud  warning  voice  of  the  laws  of  gradation  so 
visibly  pervading  all  things  in  Earth  and  Heaven — wild  attempts 
at  an  omni-prevalent  Democracy  were  made.  Yet  this  evil 
sprang  necessarily  from  the  leading  evil,  Knowledge.  Man 
could  not  both  know  and  succumb.  Meantime  huge  smoking 
cities  arose,  innumerable.  Green  leaves  shrank  before  the  hot 
breath  of  furnaces.  The  fair  face  of  Nature  was  deformed  as 
with  the  ravages  of  some  loathsome  disease.  And  methinks, 
sweet  Una,  even  our  slumbering  sense  of  the  forced  and  of  the 
far-fetched  might  have  arrested  us  here.  But  now  it  appears 
that  we  had  worked  out  our  own  destruction  in  the  perversion  of 
our  taste,  or  rather  in  the  blind  neglect  of  its  culture  in  the 


THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA.  379 

schools.  For,  in  truth,  it  was  at  this  crisis  that  taste  alone — that 
faculty  which,  holding  a  middle  position  between  the  pure  intel- 
lect and  the  moral  sense,  could  never  safely  have  been  disregard, 
ed — it  was  now  that  taste  alone  could  have  led  us  gently  back  to« 
Beauty,  to  Nature,  and  to  Life.  But  alas  for  the  pure  con- 
templative spirit  and  majestic  intuition  of  Plato !  Alas  for  the 
itawmii  which  he  justly  regarded  as  an  all-sufficient  education  for 
the  soul !  Alas  for  him  and  for  it ! — since  both  were  most  des- 
perately needed  when  bcth  were  most  entirely  forgotten  01 
despised.* 

Pascal,  a  philosopher  whom  we  both  love,  has  said,  how  truly  ! 
— "  que  tout  notre  raisGntientent  se  reduit  a  ceder  an  sentiment ;" 
and  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  sentiment  of  the  natural,  had  time 
permitted  it,  would  have  regained  its  old  ascendancy  over  the 
harsh  mathematical  reason  of  the  schools.  But  this  thing  was 
not  to  be.  Prematurely  induced  by  intemperance  of  knowledge, 
the  old  age  of  the  world  drew  on.  This  the  mass  of  mankind  saw 
not,  or,  living  lustily  although  unhappily,  affected  not  to  see. 
But,  for  myself,  the  Earth's  records  had  taught  me  to  look  for 
widest  ruin  as  the  price  of  highest  civilization.  I  had  imbibed  a 
prescience  of  our  Fate  from  comparison  of  China  the  simple  and 
enduring,  with  Assyria  the  architect,  with  Egypt  the  astrologer, 
with  Nubia,  more  crafty  than  either,  the  turbulent  mother  of  all 
Arts.  In  historyf  of  these  regions  I  met  with  a  ray  from  the  Fu- 


*  "  It  will  be  hard  to  discover  a  better  [method  of  education]  than  that 
which  the  experience  of  so  many  ages  has  already  discovered  ;  and  this  may  be 
summed  up  as  consisting  in  gymnastics  for  the  body,  and  music  for  the  soul.'; 
— Repub.  lib.  2.  "  For  this  reason  is  a  musical  education  most  essential ;  sine* 
it  causes  Rhythm  and  Harmony  to  penetrate  most  intimately  into  the  soul,  ta- 
king the  strongest  hold  upon  it,  filling  it  with  beauty  and  making  the  man  beau 

tiful-minded He  will  praise  and  admire  the  beautiful;  will  receive  i*. 

with  joy  into  his  soul,  will  feed  upon  it,  and  assimilate  his  own  condition  with 
it.:' — Ibid.  lib.  3.  Music  QiovaiKri)  had,  however,  among  the  Athenians,  a  fai 
more  comprehensive  signification  than  with  us.  It  included  not  only  the  har 
Iionies  of  time  ai.d  of  tune,  but  the  poetic  diction,  sentiment  and  creation 
each  in  its  widest  sense.  The  study  of  music  was  with  them,  in  fact,  the  gen- 
eral cultivation  of  the  taste — of  that  which  recognizes  the  beautiful — in  con- 
tra-distinction  from  reason,  which  deals  only  with  the  true. 

t  "  History,"  from  laropav,  to  contemplate. 


380  THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA. 

Mire.  The  individual  artificialities  of  the  three  latter  were  local 
diseases  of  the  Earth,  and  in  their  individual  overthrows  we  had 
seen  local  remedies  applied ;  but  for  the  infected  world  at  large  I 
•could  anticipate  no  regeneration  save  in  death.  That  man,  as  a 
race,  should  not  become  extinct,  I  saw  that  he  must  be  "  born 
again." 

And  now  it  was,  fairest  and  dearest,  that  we  wrapped  our  spir- 
its, daily,  in  dreams.  Now  it  was  that,  in  twilight,  we  discoursed 
of  the  days  to  come,  when  the  Art-scarred  surface  of  the  Earth, 
having  undergone  that  purification*  which  alone  could  efface  its 
rectangular  obscenities,  should  clothe  itself  anew  in  the  verdure 
and  the  mountain-slopes  and  the  smiling  waters  of  Paradise,  and 
be  rendered  at  length  a  fit  dwelling-place  for  man  : — for  man  the 
Death-purged — for  man  to  whose  now  exalted  intellect  there 
should  be  poison  in  knowledge  no  more — for  the  redeemed,  regen- 
erated, blissful,  and  now  immortal,  but  still  for  the  material,  man. 

Urna.  Well  do  I  remember  these  conversations,  dear  Monos ; 
but  the  epoch  of  the  fiery  overthrow  was  not  so  near  at  hand  as 
we  believed,  and  as  the  corruption  you  indicate  did  surely  war- 
rant us  in  believing.  Men  lived  ;  and  died  individually.  You 
yourself  sickened,  and  passed  into  the  grave  ;  and  thither  your 
constant  Una  speedily  followed  you.  And  though  the  century 
which  has  since  elapsed,  and  whose  conclusion  brings  us  thus  to- 
gether once  more,  tortured  our  slumbering  senses  with  no  impa- 
tience of  duration,  yet,  my  Monos,  it  was  a  century  still. 

Monos.  Say,  rather,  a  point  in  the  vague  infinity.  Unques- 
tionably, it  was  in  the  Earth's  dotage  that  I  died.  Wearied  at 
heart  with  anxieties  which  had  their  origin  in  the  general  turmoil 
and  decay,  I  succumbed  to  the  fierce  fever.  After  some  few  days 
of  pain,  and  many  of  dreamy  delirium  replete  with  ecstasy,  the 
manifestations  of  which  you  mistook  for  pain,  while  I  longed  but 
was  impotent  to  undeceive  you — after  some  days  there  came  upon 
me,  as  you  have  said,  a  breathless  and  motionless  torpor  j  and 
this  was  termed  Death  by  those  who  stood  around  me. 

Words  are  vague  things.     My  condition  did  not  deprive  me  of 


»  The  word  "purification"  seems  here  to  be  used  with  reference  to  its  rool 
in  the  Greek  *vp,  firo. 


THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA.  381 

sentience.  It  appeared  to  me  not  greatly  dissimilar  to  the  ex 
treme  quiescence  of  him,  who,  having  slumbered  long  and  pro- 
foundly, lying  motionless  and  fully  prostrate  in  a  midsummel 
noon,  begins  to  steal  slowly  back  into  consciousness,  through  the 
mere  sufficiency  of  his  sleep,  and  without  being  awakened  by  ex. 
ternal  disturbances. 

I  breathed  no  longer.  The  pulses  were  still.  The  heart  had 
ceased  to  beat.  Volition  had  not  departed,  but  was  powerless. 
The  senses  were  unusually  active,  although  eccentrically  so — as- 
suming  often  each  other's  functions  at  random.  The  taste  and 
the  smell  were  inextricably  confounded,  and  became  one  senti. 
ment,  abnormal  and  intense.  The  rose-water  with  which  your 
tenderness  had  moistened  my  lips  to  the  last,  affected  me  with 
sweet  fancies  of  flowers — fantastic  flowers,  far  more  lovely  than 
any  of  the  old  Earth,  but  whose  prototypes  we  have  here  bloom- 
ing  around  us.  The  eyelids,  transparent  and  bloodless,  offered 
no  complete  impediment  to  vision.  As  volition  was  in  abeyance 
the  balls  could  not  roll  in  their  sockets — but  all  objects  within  the 
range  of  the  visual  hemisphere  were  seen  with  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctness ;  the  rays  which  fell  upon  the  external  retina,  or  into 
the  corner  of  the  eye,  producing  a  more  vivid  effect  than  those 
which  struck  the  front  or  interior  surface.  Yet,  in  the  former 
instance,  this  effect  was  so  far  anomalous  that  I  appreciated  it 
only  as  sound — sound  sweet  or  discordant  as  the  matters  present- 
ing themselves  -at  my  side  were  light  or  dark  in  shade — curved 
or  angular  in  outline.  The  hearing,  at  the  same  time,  although 
excited  in  degree,  was  not  irregular  in  action — estimating  real 
sounds  with  an  extravagance  of  precision,  not  less  than  of  sensi- 
bility. Touch  had  undergone  a  modification  more  peculiar.  Its 
impressions  were  tardily  received,  but  pertinaciously  retained, 
and  resulted  always  in  the  highest  physical  pleasure.  Thus  the 
pressure  of  your  sweet  fingers  upon  my  eyelids,  at  first  only  rec- 
ognised through  vision,  at  length,  long  after  their  removal,  filled 
my  whole  being  with  a  sensual  delight  immeasurable.  I  say 
with  a  sensual  delight.  All  my  perceptions  were  purely  sensual. 
The  materials  furnished  the  passive  brain  by  the  senses  were  not 
in  the  least  degree  wrought  into  shape  by  the  deceased  under- 
standing. Of  pain  there  was  some  little  ;  of  pleasure  there  was 


382        THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA. 

much  ;  but  of  moral  pain  or  pleasure  none  at  all.  Thus  you) 
wild  sobs  floated  into  my  ear  with  all  their  mournful  cadences, 
and  were  appreciated  in  their  every  variation  of  sad  tone ;  but 
they  were  soft  musical  sounds  and  no  more ;  they  conveyed  to 
the  extinct  reason  no  intimation  of  the  sorrows  which  gave  them 
birth  ;  while  the  large  and  constant  tears  which  fell  upon  my 
face,  telling  the  bystanders  of  a  heart  which  broke,  thrilled  every 
fibre  of  my  frame  with  ecstasy  alone.  And  this  was  in  truth  the 
Death  of  which  these  bystanders  spoke  reverently,  in  low  whis- 
pers— you,  sweet  Una,  gaspingly,  with  loud  cries. 

They  attired  me  for  the  coffin — three  or  four  dark  figures 
which  flitted  busily  to  and  fro.  As  these  crossed  the  direct  line 
of  my  vision  they  affected  me  as  forms  ;  but  upon  passing  to  my 
side  their  images  impressed  me  with  the  idea  of  shrieks,  groans, 
and  other  dismal  expressions  of  terror,  of  horror,  or  of  wo.  You 
alone,  habited  in  a  white  robe,  passed  in  all  directions  musically 
about  me. 

The  day  waned  ;  and,  as  its  light  faded  away,  I  became  pos- 
sessed by  a  vague  uneasiness — an  anxiety  such  as  the  sleeper 
feels  when  sad  real  sounds  fall  continuously  within  his  ear — low 
distant  bell-tones,  solemn,  at  long  but  equal  intervals,  and  com- 
mingling with  melancholy  dreams.  Night  arrived  ;  and  with  its 
shadows  a  heavy  discomfort.  It  oppressed  my  limbs  with  the  op- 
pression of  some  dull  weight,  and  was  palpable.  There  was  also 
a  moaning  sound,  not  unlike  the  distant  reverberation  of  surf,  but 
more  continuous,  which,  beginning  with  the  first  twilight,  had 
grown  in  strength  with  the  darkness.  Suddenly  lights  were 
brought  into  the  room,  and  this  reverberation  became  forthwith 
interrupted  into  frequent  unequal  bursts  of  the  same  sound,  but 
less  dreary  and  less  distinct.  The  ponderous  oppression  was  in 
a  great  measure  relieved ;  and,  issuing  from  the  flame  of  each 
lamp,  (for  there  were  many,)  there  flowed  unbrokenly  into  my 
ears  a  strain  of  melodious  monotone.  And  when  now,  dear  Una, 
approaching  the  bed  upon  which  I  lay  outstretched,  you  sat  gently 
by  my  side,  breathing  odor  from  your  sweet  lips,  and  pressing 
them  upon  my  brow,  there  arose  tremulously  within  my  bosom, 
and  mingling  with  the  merely  physical  sensations  which  circum- 
stances had  called  forth,  a  something  akin  to  sentiment  itself — a 


THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MOM  US  A^D  UNA.  383 

feeling  that,  half  appreciating,  half  responded  to  your  earnest  love 
and  sorrow  ;  but  this  feeling  took  no  root  in  the  pulseless  heart, 
and  seemed  indeed  rather  a  shadow  than  a  reality,  and  faded 
quickly  away,  first  into  extreme  quiescence,  and  then  into  a  purely 
sensual  pleasure  as  before. 

And  now,  from  the  wreck  and  the  chaos  of  the  usual  senses, 
there  appeared  to  have  arisen  within  me  a  sixth,  all  perfect.  In 
its  exercise  I  found  a  wild  delight — yet  a  delight  still  physical,  in- 
asmuch as  the  understanding  had  in  it  no  part.  Motion  in  the 
animal  frame  had  fully  ceased.  No  muscle  quivered ;  no  nerve 
thrilled  ;  no  artery  throbbed.  But  there  seemed  to  have  sprung 
up  in  the  brain,  that  of  which  no  words  could  convey  to  the  merely 
human  intelligence  even  an  indistinct  conception.  Let  me  term 
it  a  mental  pendulous  pulsation.  It  was  the  moral  embodiment 
of  man's  abstract  idea  of  Time.  By  the  absolute  equalization 
of  this  movement — or  of  such  as  this — had  the  cycles  of  the  fir- 
mamental  orbs  themselves,  been  adjusted.  By  its  aid  I  measured 
the  irregularities  of  the  clock  upon  the  mantel,  and  of  the  watches 
of  the  attendants.  Their  tickings  came  sonorously  to  my  ears. 
The  slightest  deviations  from  the  true  proportion — and  these  devi- 
ations were  omni-prsevalent — affected  me  just  as  violations  of  ab- 
stract truth  were  wont,  on  earth,  to  affect  the  moral  sense.  Al. 
though  no  two  of  the  time-pieces  in  the  chamber  struck  the  indi- 
vidual seconds  accurately  together,  yet  I  had  no  difficulty  in  hold- 
ing  steadily  in  mind  the  tones,  and  the  respective  momentary 
errors  of  each.  And  this — this  keen,  perfect,  self-existing  senti- 
ment of  duration — this  sentiment  existing  (as  man  could  not  pos- 
sibly have  conceived  it  to  exist)  independently  of  any  succession 
of  events — this  idea — this  sixth  sense,  upspringing  from  the  ashes 
of  the  rest,  was  the  first  obvious  and  certain  step  of  the  intempo- 
ral  soul  upon  the  threshold  of  the  temporal  Eternity. 

It  was  midnight ;  and  you  still  sat  by  my  side.  All  others 
had  departed  from  the  chamber  of  Death.  They  had  deposited 
me  in  the  coffin.  The  lamps  burned  flickeringly  ;  for  this  I  knew 
by  the  tremulousness  of  the  monotonous  strains.  But,  suddenly 
these  strains  diminished  in  distinctness  and  in  volume.  Finally 
they  ceased.  The  perfume  in  my  nostrils  died  away.  Forms 
affected  my  vision  no  longer.  The  oppression  of  the  Darkness 


384  THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA. 

uplifted  itself  from  my  bosom.  A  dull  shock  like  that  of  elec- 
tricity pervaded  my  frame,  and  was  followed  by  total  loss  of  the 
idea  of  contact.  All  of  what  man  has  termed  sense  was  merged 
in  the  sole  consciousness  of  entity,  and  in  the  one  abiding  senti- 
ment of  duration.  The  mortal  body  had  been  at  length  stricken 
with  the  hand  of  the  deadly  Decay. 

Yet  had  not  all  of  sentience  departed  ;  for  the  consciousness 
and  the  sentiment  remaining  supplied  some  of  its  functions  by  a 
lethargic  intuition.  I  appreciated  the  direful  change  now  in  ope- 
ration upon  the  flesh,  and,  as  the  dreamer  is  sometimes  aware 
of  the  bodily  presence  of  one  who  leans  over  him,  so,  sweet  Una, 
[  still  dully  felt  that  you  sat  by  my  side.  So,  too,  when  the 
noon  of  the  second  day  came,  I  was  not  unconscious  of  those 
movements  which  displaced  you  from  my  side,  which  confined 
me  within  the  coffin,  which  deposited  me  within  the  hearse,  which 
bore  me  to  the  grave,  which  lowered  me  within  it,  which  heaped 
heavily  the  mould  upon  me,  and  which  thus  left  me,  in  blackness 
and  corruption,  to  my  sad  and  solemn  slumbers  with  the  worm. 

And  here,  in  the  prison-house  which  has  few  secrets  to  disclose, 
there  rolled  away  days  and  weeks  and  months ;  and  the  soul 
watched  narrowly  each  second  as  it  flew,  and,  without  effort, 
took  record  of  its  flight — without  effort  and  without  object. 

A  year  passed.  The  consciousness  of  being  had  grown  hour- 
ly more  indistinct,  and  that  of  mere  locality  had,  in  great  meas- 
ure, usurped  its  position.  The  idea  of  entity  was  becoming 
merged  in  that  of  place.  The  narrow  space  immediately  sur- 
rounding what  had  been  the  body,  was  now  growing  to  be  the 
body  itself.  At  length,  as  often  happens  to  the  sleeper  (by  sleep 
and  its  world  alone  is  Death  imaged) — at  length,  as  sometimes 
happened  on  Earth  to  the  deep  slumberer,  when  some  flitting 
light  half  startled  him  into  awaking,  yet  left  him  half  enveloped 
in  dreams — so  to  me,  in  the  strict  embrace  of  the  Shadow,  came 
that  light  which  alone  might  have  had  power  to  startle — the  light 
of  enduring  Love.  Men  toiled  at  the  grave  in  which  I  lay  darkling. 
They  upthrew  the  damp  earth.  Upon  my  mouldering  bones  there 
descended  the  coffin  of  Una. 

And  now  again  all  was  void.  That  nebulous  light  had  been 
extinguished.  That  feeble  thrill  had  vibrated  itself  into  quies- 


THE  COLLOQUY  OF  MONOS  AND  UNA.  385 

cence.  Many  lustra  had  supervened.  Dust  had  returned  to 
dust.  The  worm  had  food  no  more.  The  sense  of  being  had  at 
length  utterly  departed,  and  there  reigned  in  its  stead — instead  of 
all  things — dominant  and  perpetual — the  autocrats  Place  and 
Time.  For  that  which  was  not — for  that  which  had  no  form — 
for  that  which  had  no  thought — for  that  which  had  no  sentience — 
for  that  which  was  soulless,  yet  of  which  matter  formed  no  por 
lion —  for  all  this  nothingness,  yet  for  all  this  immortality,  tits, 
grave  was  still  a  home,  and  the  corrosive  hours,  co-mate^ 


THE 


TIvp  <roi  irpoiTourcj ' 
.          I  will  bring  fire  to  thee. 

Eui  ipides — Androm  : 

EIROS. 

WHY  do  you  call  me  Eiros  ? 

CHARMION. 

So  henceforward  will  you  always  be  called.  You  must  forget, 
too,  my  earthly  name,  and  speak  to  me  as  Charmion. 

EIROS. 

This  is  indeed  no  dream  ! 

CHARMION. 

Dreams  are  with  us  no  more  ; — but  of  these  mysteries  anon. 
1  rejoice  to  see  you  looking  life-like  and  rational.  The  film  of 
the  shadow  has  already  passed  from  off  your  eyes.  Be  of  heart, 
and  fear  nothing.  Your  allotted  days  of  stupor  have  expired.; 
and,  to-morrow,  I  will  myself  induct  you  into  the  full  joys  and 
wonders  of  your  novel  existence. 

EIROS. 

True — I  feel  no  stupor — none  at  all.  The  wild  sickness  and 
Ihe  terrible  darkness  have  left  me,  and  I  hear  no  longer  that  mad, 
rushing,  horrible  sound,  like  the  "voice  of  many  waters."  Yet 
my  senses  are  bewildered,  Charmion,  with  the  keenness  of  their 
perception  of  the  new. 

CHARMION. 

A  few  days  will  remove  all  this ; — but  I  fully  understand  you, 
and  feel  for  you.  It  is  now  ten  earthly  years  since  I  underwent 


THE  CONVERSATION  OF  EIROS  AND  CHARMION.      387 

what  you  undergo — yet  the  remembrance  of  it  hangs  by  me  still, 
You  have  now  suffered  all  of  pain,  however,  which  you  will 
suffer  in  Aidenn. 

EIROS. 

In  Aidenn  ? 

CHARMION. 

In  Aidenn. 

EIROS. 

Oh  God  ! — pity  me,  Charmion  ! — I  am  overburthened  with  the 
majesty  of  all  things — of  the  unknown  now  known — of  the  spec- 
ulative Future  merged  in  the  august  and  certain  Present. 

CHARMION. 

Grapple  not  now  with  such  thoughts.  To-morrow  we  will 
speak  of  this.  Your  mind  wavers,  and  its  agitation  will  find  re- 
lief  in  the  exercise  of  simple  memories.  Look  not  around,  nor 
forward — but  back.  I  am  burning  with  anxiety  to  hear  the  de- 
tails of  that  stupendous  event  which  threw  you  among  us.  Tell 
me  of  it.  Let  us  converse  of  familiar  things,  in  the  old  familiaf 
language  of  the  world  which  has  so  fearfully  perished. 

EIROS. 
Most  fearfully,  fearfully  ! — this  is  indeed  no  dream. 

CHARMION.    ' 
Dreams  are  no  more.     Was  I  much  mourned,  my  Eiros  ? 

EIROS. 

Mourned,  Charmion  ? — oh  deeply.  To  that  last  hour  of  all, 
there  hung  a  cloud  of  intense  gloom  and  devout  sorrow  over  youl 
household. 

CHARMION. 

And  that  last  hour — speak  of  it.  Remember  that,  beyond  the 
naked  fact  of  the  catastrophe  itself,  I  know  nothing.  When, 
coming  out  from  among  mankind,  I  passed  into  Night  through 
the  Grave — at  that  period,  if  I  remember  aright,  the  calamity 
which  overwhelmed  you  was  utterly  unanticipated.  But,  in- 
deed,  I  knew  little  of  the  speculative  philosophy  of  the  day. 

EIROS. 
The  individual  calamity  was,   as  you  say,  entirely  unantici- 


388        THE  CONVERSATION  OF  EIROS  AND  CHARMION. 

pated  ;  but  a  >.alogous  misfortunes  had  been  long  a  subject  of  dis. 
cussion  with  astronomers.  I  need  scarce  tell  you,  my  friend, 
that,  even  w'ien  you  left  us,  men  had  agreed  to  understand  those 
passages  in  the  most  holy  writings  which  speak  of  the  final  de 
s!  ruction  of  all  things  by  fire,  as  having  reference  to  the  orb  of 
the  earth  alone.  But  in  regard  to  the  immediate  agency  of  the 
ruin,  speculation  had  been  at  fault  from  that  epoch  in  astronom 
ical  knowledge  in  which  the  comets  were  divested  of  the  terror* 
of  flame.  The  very  moderate  density  of  these  bodies  had  been 
well  established.  They  had  been  observed  to  pass  among  the 
satellites  of  Jupiter,  without  bringing  about  any  sensible  altera- 
tion either  in  the  masses  or  in  the  orbits  of  these  secondary 
planets.  We  had  long  regarded  the  wanderers  as  vapory  ere- 
ations  of  inconceivable  tenuity,  and  as  altogether  incapable  of 
doing  injury  to  our  substantial  globe,  even  in  the  event  of  con. 
tact.  But  contact  was  not  in  any  degree  dreaded  ;  for  the  ele- 
ments of  all  the  comets  were  accurately  known.  That  among 
them  we  should  look  for  the  agency  of  the  threatened  fiery  de- 
struction had  been  for  many  years  considered  an  inadmissible 
idea.  But  wonders  and  wild  fancies  had  been,  of  late  days, 
strangely  rife  among  mankind  j  and,  although  it  was  only  with  a 
few  of  the  ignorant  that  actual  apprehension  prevailed,  upon  the 
announcement  by  astronomers  of  a  new  comet,  yet  this  announce 
ment  was  generally  received  with  I  know  not  what  of  agitation 
and  mistrust. 

The  elements  of  the  strange  orb  were  immediately  calculated, 
and  it  was  at  once  conceded  by  all  observers,  that  its  path,  at 
perihelion,  would  bring  it  into  very  close  proximity  with  the 
earth.  There  were  two  or  three  astronomers,  of  secondary  note., 
who  resolutely  maintained  that  a  contact  was  inevitable.  I  can- 
not very  well  express  to  you  the  effect  of  this  intelligence  upon 
the  people.  For  a  few  short  days  they  would  not  believe  an  as 
sertion  which  their  intellect,  so  long  employed  among  worldly  con- 
siderations,  could  not  in  any  manner  grasp.  But  the  truth  of  a 
vitally  important  fact  soon  makes  its  way  into  the  understanding 
of  even  the  most  stolid.  Finally,  all  men  saw  that  astronomical 
knowledge  lied  not,  and  they  awaited  the  comet.  Its  approach 
was  not,  at  first,  seemingly  rapid  ;  nor  was  its  appearance  of 


THK    CONVERSATION  OF  EIROS  AND  CHARMKXN.      3S9 

very  unusual  character.  It  was  of  a  dull  red,  and  had  little  per- 
cepuble  train.  For  seven  or  eight  days  we  saw  no  material  in- 
crease in  its  apparent  diameter,  and  but  a  partial  alteration  in  its 
color.  Meantime,  the  ordinary  affairs  of  men  were  discarded, 
and  all  interests  absorbed  in  a  growing  discussion,  instituted  by 
the  philosophic,  in  respect  to  the  cometary  nature.  Even  the 
grossly  ignorant  aroused  their  sluggish  capacities  to  such  con- 
siderations. The  learned  now  gave  their  intellect — their  soul — to 
no  such  points  as  the  allaying  of  fear,  or  to  the  sustenance  of  loved 
theory.  They  sought — they  panted  for  right  views,  They  groaned 
ior  perfected  knowledge.  Truth  arose  in  the  purity  of  her  strength 
and  exceeding  majesty,  and  the  wise  bowed  down  and  adored. 

That  material  injury  to  our  globe  or  to  its  inhabitants  would 
result  from  the  apprehended  contact,  was  an  opinion  which  hour- 
ly lost  ground  among  the  wise ;  and  the  wise  were  now  freely 
permitted  to  rule  the  reason  and  the  fancy  of  the  crowd.  It  was 
demonstrated,  that  the  density  of  the  comet's  nucleus  was  far  less 
than  that  of  our  rarest  gas  ;  and  the  harmless  passage  of  a  similar 
visitor  among  the  satellites  of  Jupiter  was  a  point  strongly  insisted 
upon,  and  which  served  greatly  to  allay  terror.  Theologists,  with 
an  earnestness  fear-enkindled,  dwelt  upon  the  biblical  prophecies, 
and  expounded  them  to  the  people  with  a  directness  and  simplicity 
of  which  no  previous  instance  had  been  known.  That  the  final 
destruction  of  the  earth  must  be  brought  about  by  the  agency  of 
fire,  was  urged  with  a  spirit  that  enforced  every  where  conviction ; 
and  that  the  comets  were  of  no  fiery  nature  (as  all  men  now 
knew)  was  a  truth  which  relieved  all,  in  a  great  measure,  from 
the  apprehension  of  the  great  calamity  foretold.  It  is  noticeable 
that  the  popular  prejudices  and  vulgar  errors  in  regard  to  pesti- 
lences and  wars — errors  which  were  wont  to  prevail  upon  every 
appearance  of  a  comet — were  now  altogether  unknown.  As  if 
by  some  sudden  convulsive  exertion,  reason  had  at  once  hurled 
superstition  from  her  throne.  The  feeblest  intellect  had  derived 
vigor  from  excessive  interest. 

What  minor  evils  might  arise  from  the  contact  were  points  of 
elaborate  question.  The  learned  spoke  of  slight  geological  dis- 
turbances, of  probable  alterations  in  climate,  and  consequently  in 
vegetation  ;  of  uossible  magnetic  and  electric  influences.  Many 


390       THE  CONVERSATION  OF  EIROS  AND  CHARMION. 

held  that  no  visible  or  perceptible  effect  would  in  any  manner  be 
produced.  While  such  discussions  were  going  on,  their  subject 
gradually  approached,  growing  larger  in  apparent  diameter,  and 
of  a  more  brilliant  lustre.  Mankind  grew  paler  as  it  came.  All 
human  operations  were  suspended. 

There  was  an  epoch  in  the  course  of  the  general  sentiment 
when  the  comet  had  attained,  at  length,  a  size  surpassing  that  of- 
any  previously  recorded  visitation.  The  people  now,  dismissing 
any  lingering  hope  that  the  astronomers  were  wrong,  experienced 
all  the  certainty  of  evil.  The  chimerical  aspect  of  their  terror 
was  gone.  The  hearts  of  the  stoutest  of  our  race  beat  violently 
within  their  bosoms.  A  very  few  days  sufficed,  however,  to 
merge  even  such  feelings  in  sentiments  more  unendurable.  We 
could  no  longer  apply  to  the  strange  orb  any  accustomed  thoughts. 
Its  historical  attributes  had  disappeared.  It  oppressed  us  with  a 
hideous  novelty  of  emotion.  We  saw  it  not  as  an  astronomical 
phenomenon  in  the  heavens',  but  as  an  incubus  upon  our  hearts, 
and  a  shadow  upon  our  brains.  It  had  taken,  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  the  character  of  a  gigantic  mantle  of  rare  flame,  extend 
ing  from  horizon  to  horizon. 

Yet  a  day,  and  men  breathed  with  greater  freedom.  It  was 
clear  that  we  were  already  within  the  influence  of  the  comet ; 
yet  we  lived.  We  even  felt  an  unusual  elasticity  of  frame  and 
vivacity  of  mind.  The  exceeding  tenuity  of  the  object  of  our 
dread  was  apparent ;  for  all  heavenly  objects  were  plainly  visible 
through  it.  Meantime,  our  vegetation  had  perceptibly  altered ; 
and  we  gained  faith,  from  this  predicted  circumstance,  in  the  fore- 
sight of  tbe  wise.  A  wild  luxuriance  of  foliage,  utterly  unknown 
before,  burst  out  upon  every  vegetable  thing. 

Yet  another  day — and  the  evil  was  not  altogether  upon  us.  It 
was  now  evident  that  its  nucleus  would  first  reach  us.  A  wild 
change  had  come  over  all  men  ;  and  the  first  sense  of  pain  was 
ihe  wild  signal  for  general  lamentation  and  horror.  This  first 
sense  of  pain  lay  in  a  rigorous  constriction  of  the  breast  and 
lungs,  and  an  insufferable  dryness  of  the  skin.  It  could  not  be 
denied  that  our  atmosphere  was  radically  affected ;  the  conforma- 
tion of  this  atmosphere  and  the  possible  modifications  to  which  it 
might  be  subjected,  were  now  the  topics  of  discussion.  The  re- 


THE  CONVERSATION  OF  EIROS  AND  CIIARMION.      391 

suit  of  investigation  sent  an  electric  thrill  of  the  intensest  terror 
through  the  universal  heart  of  man. 

It  had  been  long  known  that  the  air  which  encircled  us  was  a 
compound  of  oxygen  and  nitrogen  gases,  in  the  proportion  01 
twenty-one  measures  of  oxygen,  and  seventy-nine  of  nitrogen,  in 
every  one  hundred  of  the  atmosphere.  Oxygen,  which  was  the 
principle  of  combustion,  and  the  vehicle  of  heat,  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  the  support  of  animal  life,  and  was  the  most  power- 
ful and  energetic  agent  in  nature.  Nitrogen,  en  the  contrary, 
was  incapable  of  supporting  cither  animal  life  or  flame.  An  un- 
natural excess  of  oxygen  would  result,  it  had  been  ascertained, 
in  just  such  an  elevation  of  the  animal  spirits  as  we  had  lat- 
terly experienced.  It  was  the  pursuit,  the -extension  of  the  idea, 
which  had  engendered  awe.  What  would  be  the  result  of  a  to- 
tal extraction  of  the  nitrogen  ?  A  combustion  irresistible,  all- 
devouring,  omni-prevalent,  immediate  ; — the  entire  fulfilment,  in 
all  their  minute  and  terrible  details,  of  the  fiery  and  horror-in- 
spiring denunciations  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Holy  Book. 

Why  need  I  paint,  Charmion,  the  now  disenchained  frenzy  of 
mankind  ?  That  tenuity  in  the  comet  which  had  previously  in- 
spired us  with  hope,  was  now  the  source  of  the  bitterness  of  de- 
spair. In  its  impalpable  gaseous  character  we  clearly  perceived 
the  consummation  of  Fate.  Meantime  a  day  again  passed — 
bearing  away  with  it  the  last  shadow  of  Hope.  We  gasped  in 
the  rapid  modification  of  the  air.  The  red  blood  bounded  tumul- 
tuously  through  its  strict  channels.  A  furious  dehiium  possessed 
all  men  ;  and,  with  arms  rigidly  outstretched  towards  the  threat- 
ening heavens,  they  trembled  and  shrieked  aloud.  But  the  nu 
cleus  of  the  destroyer  was  now  upon  us ; — even  here  in  Aidenn, 
I  shudder  while  I  spea«c.  Let  me  be  brief — brief  as  the  ruin  that 
overwhelmed.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  wild  lurid  light  alone, 
visiting  and  penetrating  all  things.  Then — let  us  bow  down 
Charmion,  before  the  excessive  majesty  of  the  great  God  ! — then, 
there  came  a  shouting  and  pervading  sound,  as  if  from  the  mouth 
itself  of  HIM  ;  while  the  whole  incumbent  mass  of  ether  in  which 
we  existed,  burst  at  once  into  a  species  of  intense  flame,  for  whose 
surpassing  brilliancy  and  all-fervid  htat  even  the  angels  in  the 
high  Heaven  of  pure  knowledge  have  no  name.  Thus  ended  all. 


SHADOW, -A  PARABLE, 


Yea !  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  Shadow : — Psalm  of  David 

YE  who  read  are  still  among  the  living:  but  I  who  write  shall 
have  long  since  gone  my  way  into  the  region  of  shadows.  For 
indeed  strange  things  shall  happen,  and  secret  things  be  known, 
and  many  centuries  shall  pass  away,  ere  these  memorials  be  seen 
of  men.  And,  when  seen,  there  will  be  some  to  disbelieve,  ana 
Borne  to  doubt,  and  yet  a  few  who  will  find  much  to  ponder  upon 
in  the  characters  here  graven  with  a  stylus  of  iron. 

The  year  had  been  a  year  of  terror,  and  of  feelings  more  intense 
than  terror  for  which  there  is  no  name  upon  the  earth.  For  many 
prodigies  and  signs  had  taken  place,  and  far  and  wide,  over  sea 
and  land,  the  black  wings  of  the  Pestilence  were  spread  abroad. 
To  those,  nevertheless,  tunning  in  the  stars,  it  was  not  unknown 
that  the  heavens  wore  an  aspect  of  ill ;  and  to  me,  the  Greek 
Oinos,  among  others,  it  was  evident  that  now  had  arrived  the 
alternation  of  that  seven  hundred  and  ninety-fourth  year  when,  at 
the  entrance  of  Aries,  the  planet  Jupiter  is  conjoined  with  the  red 
ring  of  the  terrible  Saturnus.  The  peculiar  spirit  of  the  skies,  if  I 
mistake  not  greatly,  made  itself  manifest,  not  only  in  the  physical 
orb  of  the  earth,  but  in  the  souls,  imaginations,  and  meditations 
of  mankind. 

Over  some  flasks  of  the  red  Chian  wine,  within  the  walls  of  a 
noble  hall,  in  a  dim  city  called  Ptolemais,  we  sat,  at  night,  a  com- 
pany of  seven.  And  to  our  chamber  there  was  no  entrance  save 
by  a  lofty  door  of  brass :  and  the  door  was  fashioned  by  the  arti- 
san Corinnos,  and,  being  of  rare  workmanship,  was  fastened  from 


SHADOW.— A  PARABLE.  393 

A'ithin.  Black  draperies,  likewise,  in  the  gloomy  room,  shut  out 
from  our  view  the  moon,  the  lurid  stars,  and  the  peopleless  streets — • 
but  the  boding  and  the  memory  of  Evil,  they  would  not  be  so 
excluded.  There  were  things  around  us  and  about  of  which  I  can 
render  no  distinct  account — things  material  and  spiritual — heavi- 
ness in  the  atmosphere — a  sense  of  suffocation — anxiety — and, 
above  all,  that  terrible  state  of  existence  which  the  nervous  experi- 
ence when  the  senses  are  keenly  living  and  awake,  and  meanwhile 
the  powers  of  thought  lie  dormant.  A  dead  weight  hung  upon 
us.  It  hung  upon  our  limbs — upon  the  household  furniture — • 
upon  the  goblets  from  which  we  drank ;  and  all  things  were 
depressed,  and  borne  down  thereby — all  things  save  only  the 
flames  of  the  seven  iron  lamps  which  illumined  our  revel.  Up- 
rearing  themselves  in  tall  slender  lines  of  light,  they  thus  remained 
burning  all  pallid  and  motionless  ;  and  in  the  mirror  which  their 
lustre  formed  upon  the  round  table  of  ebony  at  which  we  sat,  each 
of  us  there  assembled  beheld  the  pallor  of  his  own  countenance, 
and  the  unquiet  glare  in  the  downcast  eyes  of  his  companions. 
Yet  we  laughed  and  were  merry  in  our  proper  way — which  was 
hysterical ;  and  sang  the  songs  of  Anacreon — which  are  madness ; 
and  drank  deeply — although  the  purple  wine  reminded  us  of  blood. 
For  there  was  yet  another  tenant  of  our  chamber  in  the  person  of 
young  Zoilus.  Dead,  and  at  full  length  he  lay,  enshrouded ; — the 
genius  and  the  demon  of  the  scene.  Alas  !  he  bore  110  portion  in 
our  mirth,  save  that  his  co.untenance,  distorted  with  the  plague,  and 
his  eyes  in  which  Death  had  but  half  extinguished  the  fire  of  the 
pestilence,  seemed  to  take  such  interest  in  our  merriment  as  the 
dead  may  haply  take  in  the  merriment  of  those  who  are  to  die. 
But  although  I,  Oinos,  felt  that  the  eyes  of  the  departed  were 
upon  me,  still  I  forced  myself  not  to  perceive  the  bitterness  of 
their  expression,  and,  gazing  down  steadily  into  the  depths  of  the 
ebony  mirror,  sang  with  a  loud  and  sonorous  voice  the  songs  of 
the  son  of  Teios.  But  gradually  my  songs  they  ceased,  and  their 
echoes,  rolling  afar  off  among  the  sable  draperies  of  the  chamber, 
became  weak,  and  undistinguishable,  and  so  faded  away.  And 
lo !  from  among  those  sable  draperies  where  the  sounds  of  the 
song  departed,  there  came  forth  a  dark  and  undefined  shadow — n 
shadow  such  as  the  moon,  when  low  in  heaven,  might  fashion 


394  SHADOW.— A  PARABLE. 

from  the  figure  of  a  man  :  Imt  it  was  the  shadow  neither  of  nifin 
nor  of  God,  nor  of  any  familiar  thing.  And  quivering  awhile 
lunong  the  draperies  of  the  room,  it  at  length  rested  in  full  view 
upon  the  surface  of  the  door  of  brass.  But  the  shadow  was 
vague,  and  formless,  and  indefinite,  and  was  the  shadow  neither  of 
man  nor  God — neither  God  of  Greece,  nor  God  of  Chaldsea,  noi 
any  Egyptian  God.  And  the  shadow  rested  upon  the  brazen 
doorway,  and  under  the  arch  of  the  entablature  of  the  door,  and 
moved  not,  nor  spoke  any  word,  but  there  became  stationary  and 
remained.  And  the  door  whereupon  the  shadow  rested  was,  if  I 
remember  aright,  over  against  the  feet  of  the  young  Zoilus  en- 
shrouded. But  we,  the  seven  there  assembled,  having  seen  the 
shadow  as  it  came  out  from  among  the  draperies,  dared  not  stead- 
ily behold  it,  but  cast  down  our  eyes,  and  gazed  continually 
into  the  depths  of  the  mirror  of  ebony.  And  at  length  I,  Oinos, 
speaking  some  low  words,  demanded  of  the  shadow  its  dwelling 
and  its  appellation.  And  the  shadow  answered,  "  I  am  SHADOW, 
and  my  dwelling  is  near  to  the  Catacombs  of  Ptolemais,  and  hard 
by  those  dim  plains  of  Helusion  which  border  upon  the  foul 
Charonian  canal."  And  then  did  we,  the  seven,  start  from  our 
Beats  in  horror,  and  stand  trembling,  and  shuddering,  and  aghast* 
for  the  tones  in  the  voice  of  the  shadow  were  not  the  tones  of 
any  one  being,  but  of  a  multitude  of  beings,  and,  varying  in  their 
uadences  from  syllable  to  syllable,  fell  duskily  upon  our  ears  in  the 
well  remembered  and  familiar  accents  of  many  thousand  departed 
friends. 


SILENCE.-A   FABLE, 


<rs  xai  -^0.^0.8^0.1.  ALCMAN 

The  mountain  piniiacles  slumber ;  valleys,  crags  and  caves  are  silent. 

"  LISTEN  to  me,"  said  the  Demon,  as  he  placed  his  hand  upon 
my  head.  "  The  region  of  which  I  speak  is  a  dreary  region  in 
Libya,  by  the  borders  of  the  river  Zaire.  And  there  is  no  quiet 
there,  nor  silence. 

"The  waters  of  the  river  have  a  saffron  and  sickly  hue;  and 
they  flow  not  onward  to  the  sea,  but  palpitate  forever  and  forever 
beueath  the  red  eye  of  the  sun  with  a  tumultuous  and  convulsive 
motion.  For  many  miles  on  either  side  of  the  river's  oozy  bed  is 
a  pale  desert  of  gigantic  water-lilies.  They  sigh  one  unto  the 
other  in  that  solitude,  and  stretch  towards  the  heaven  their  long 
and  ghastly  necks,  and  nod  to  and  fro  their  everlasting  heads. 
And  there  is  an  indistinct  murmur  which  cometh  out  from  among 
them  like  the  rushing  of  subterrene  water.  And  they  sigh  one 
Onto  the  other. 

"  But  there  is  a  boundary  to  their  realm — the  boundary  of  the 
dark,  horrible,  lofty  forest.  There,  like  the  waves  about  the  He- 
brides, the  low  underwood  is  agitated  continually.  But  there  is 
no  wind  throughout  the  heaven.  And  the  tall  primeval  trees  rock 
eternally  hither  and  thither  with  a  crashing  and  mighty  sound. 
And  from  their  high  summits,  one  by  one,  drop  everlasting  dew?. 
And  at  the  roots  strange  poisonous  flowers  lie  writhing  in  perturbed 
alumber.  And  overhead,  with  a  rustling  and  loud  noise,  the  grav 


396  SILENCE.— A  FABLE. 

clouds  rush  westwardly  forever,  until  they  roll,  a  cataract,  over  tht 
fiery  wall  of  the  horizon.  But  there  is  no  wind  throughout  the 
heaven.  And  by  the  shores  of  the  river  Zaire  there  is  neither 
quiet  nor  silence. 

"  It  was  night,  and  the  rain  fell ;  and,  falling,  it  was  rain,  but, 
having  fallen,  it  was  blood.  And  I  stood  in  the  morass  among 
the  tall  lilies,  and  the  rain  fell  upon  my  head — and  the  lilies  sighed 
one  unto  the  other  in  the  solemnity  of  their  desolation. 

"  And,  all  at  once,  the  moon  arose  through  the  thin  ghastly 
mist,  and  was  crimson  in  color.  And  mine  eyes  fell  upon  a  huge 
gray  rock  which  stood  by  the  shore  of  the  river,  and  was  lighted 
by  the  light  of  the  moon.  And  the  rock  was  gray,  and  ghastly, 
and  tall, — and  the  rock  was  gray.  Upon  its  front  were  characters 
engraven  in  the  stone  ;  and  I  walked  through  the  morass  of  water- 
lilies,  until  I  came  close  unto  the  shore,  that  I  might  read  the 
characters  upon  the  stone.  But  I  could  not  decypher  them.  And 
I  was  going  back  into  the  morass,  when  the  moon  shone  with  a 
fuller  red,  and  I  turned  and  looked  again  upon  the  rock,  and  upon 
the  characters  ; — and  the  characters  were  DESOLATION. 

"  And  I  looked  upwards,  and  there  stood  a  man  upon  the  sum 
init  of  the  rock ;  and  I  hid  myself  among  the  water-lilies  that  I 
might  discover  the  actions  of  the  man.  And  the  man  was  tall  and 
stately  in  form,  and  was  wrapped  up  from  his  shoulders  to  his 
feet  in  the  toga  of  old  Rome.  And  the  outlines  of  his  figure  were 
indistinct — but  his  features  were  the  features  of  a  deity  ;  for  the 
mantle  of  the  night,  and  of  the  mist,  and  of  the  moon,  and  of  the 
dew,  had  left  uncovered  the  features  of  his  face.  And  his  brow 
was  lofty  with  thought,  and  his  eye  wild  with  care ;  and,  in  the 
few  furrows  upon  his  cheek  I  read  the  fables  of  sorrow,  and  wea- 
riness, and  disgust  with  mankind,  and  a  longing  after  solitude. 

"  And  the  man  sat  upon  the  rock,  and  leaned  his  head  upon  Ins 
hand,  and  looked  out  upon  the  desolation.  He  looked  down  inlo 
the  low  unquiet  shrubbery,  and  up  into  the  tall  primeval  trees. 
and  up  higher  at  the  rustling  heaven,  and  into  the  crimson  moon. 
And  I  lay  close  within  shelter  of  the  lilies,  and  observed  th*H 
actions  of  the  man.  And  the  man  trembled  in  the  solitude  ; — but 
the  night  waned,  and  he  sat  upon  the  rock. 

''  And  the  man  turned  his  attention  from  the  heaven,  and  looked 


SILENCE.— A  FABLE.  397 

out  upon  the  dreary  river  Zaire,  and  upon  the  yellow  ghastly 
waters,  and  upon  the  pale  legions  of  the  water-lilies.  And  the 
man  listened  to  the  sighs  of  the  water-lilies,  and  to  the  murmur 
that  came  up  from  among  them.  And  I  lay  close  within  my 
covert  and  observed  the  actions  of  the  man.  And  the  man  trem- 
bled in  the  solitude  ; — but  the  night  waned  and  he  sat  upon  the 
rock. 

"  Then  I  went  down  into  the  recesses  of  the  morass,  and  waded 
afar  in  among  the  wilderness  of  the  lilies,  and  called  unto  the  hip- 
popotami which  dwelt  among  the  fens  in  the  recesses  of  the  morass. 
And  the  hippopotami  heard  my  call,  and  came,  with  the  behe- 
moth, unto  the  foot  of  the  rock,  and  roared  loudly  and  fearfully 
beneath  the  moon.  And  I  lay  close  within  my  covert  and  ob- 
served the  actions  of  the  man.  And  the  man  trembled  in  the  soli- 
tude ; — but  the  night  waned  and  he  sat  upon  the  rock. 

"  Then  I  cursed  the  elements  with  the  curse  of  tumult ;  and  a 
frightful  tempest  gathered  in  the  heaven,  where,  before,  there  had 
been  no  wind.  And  the  heaven  became  livid  with  the  violence  of 
the  tempest — and  the  rain  beat  upon  the  head  of  the  man — and 
the  floods  of  the  river  came  down — and  the  river  was  tormented 
into  foarn — and  the  water-lilies  shrieked  wilLm  their  beds — and 
the  forest  crumbled  before  the  wind — and  the  thunder  rolled — and 
the  lightning  fell — and  the  rock  rocked  to  its  foundation.  And  I 
lay  close  within  my  covert  and  observed  the  actions  of  the  man. 
And  the  man  trembled  in  the  solitude  ; — but  the  night  waned  and 
he  sat  upon  the  rock. 

"  Then  I  grew  angry  and  cursed,  with  the  curse  of  silence,  the 
river,  and  the  lilies,  and  the  wind,  and  the  forest,  and  the  heaven, 
and  the  thunder,  and  the  sighs  of  the  water-lilies.  And  they  be- 
came accursed,  and  were  still.  And  the  moon  ceased  to  totter  up 
its  pathway  to  heaven — and  the  thunder  died  away — and  the 
lightning  did  not  flash — and  the  clouds  hung  motionless  —and  the 
waters  sunk  to  their  level  and  remained — and  the  trees  ceased  to 
rock — and  the  water-lilies  sighed  no  more — and  the  murmur  was 
heard  no  longer  from  among  them,  nor  any  shadow  of  sound 
throughout  the  vast  illimitable  desert.  And  I  looked  upon  the 
characters  of  the  rock,  and  they  were  changed ; — and  the  charac- 
ters were  SIT.EXCE. 


398  SILENCE.— A  FABLE. 

"And  mine  eyes  fell  upon  the  countenance  of  the  man,  and  his 
countenance  was  wan  with  terror.  And,  hurriedly,  he  raised  his 
head  from  his  hand,  and  stood  forth  upon  the  rock  and  listened, 
But  there  was  no  voice  throughout  the  vast  illimitable  desert,  and 
the  characters  upon  the  rock  were  SILENCE.  And  the  man  shud- 
dered, and  turned  his  face  away,  and  fled  afar  off,  in  haste,  so 
that  I  beheld  him  no  more." 

*  *  ***** 

Now  there  are  fine  tales  in  the  volumes  of  the  Magi — in  the 
iron-bound,  melancholy  volumes  of  the  Magi.  Therein,  I  say,  are 
glorious  histories  of  the  Heaven,  and  of  the  Earth,  and  of  the 
mighty  sea — and  of  the  Genii  that  overruled  the  sea,  and  the 
earth,  and  the  lofty  heaven.  There  was  much  lore  too  in  the  say- 
ings which  were  said  by  the  Sybils  ;  and  holy,  holy  things  were 
heard  of  old  by  the  dim  leaves  that  trembled  around  Dodona — 
but,  as  Allah  liveth,  that  fable  which  the  demon  told  me  as  he  sat 
by  my  side  in  the  shadow  of  the  tomb,  I  hold  to  be  the  most  won- 
derful of  all !  And  as  the  Demon  made  an  end  of  his  story,  he 
fell  back  within  the  cavity  of  the  tomb  and  laughed.  And  I  could 
not  laugh  with  the  Demon,  and  he  cursed  me  because  I  could  not 
laugh.  And  the  lynx  which  dwelleth  forever  in  the  tomb,  came 
out  therefrom,  and  lay  down  at  the  feet  of  the  Demou,  and  looked 
at  him  steadily  in  the  face. 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURE 


IN  the  internal  decoration,  if  not  in  the  external  architecture  of 
their  residences,  the  English  are  supreme.  The  Italians  have  bu 
little  sentiment  beyond  marbles  and  colors.  In  France,  meliora 
probant,  deteriora  sequuntur — the  people  are  too  much  a  race  of 
gad-abouts  to  maintain  those  household  proprieties  of  which 
indeed,  they  have  a  delicate  appreciation,  or  at  least  the  elements 
of  a  proper  sense.  The  Chinese  and  most  of  the  eastern  races 
have  a  warm  but  inappropriate  fancy.  The  Scotch  arQpoor  decor- 
ists.  The  Dutch  have,  perhaps,  an  indeterminate  idea  that  a  cur- 
tain is  not  a  cabbage.  In  Spain  they  are  all  curtains-— a  nation 
of  hangmen.  The  Russians  do  not  furnish.  The  Hottentots  and 
Kickapoos  are  very  well  in  their  way.  The  Yankees  alone  are 
preposterous. 

How  this  happens,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see.  We  have  no  aris- 
tocracy of  blood,  and  having  therefore  as  a  natural,  and  indeed 
as  an  inevitable  thing,  fashioned  for  ourselves  an  aristocracy  of 
dollars,  the  display  of  loealth  has  here  to  take  the  place  and  per- 
form the  office  of  the  heraldic  display  in  monarchical  countries. 
By  a  transition  readily  understood,  and  which  might  have  been 
as  readily  foreseen,  we  have  been  brought  to  merge  in  simple 
show  our  notions  of  taste  itself. 

To  speak  less  abstractly.  In  England,  for  example,  no  mere 
parade  of  costly  appurtenances  would  be  so  likely  as  with  us,  to 
create  an  impression  of  the  beautiful  in  respect  to  the  appurte- 
nances themselves — or  of  taste  as  regards  the  proprietor  : — this 
for  the  reason,  first,  that  wealth  is  not,  in  England,  the  loftiest 


400  PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURE. 

object  of  ambition  as  constituting  a  nobility  ;  and  secondly,  that 
there,  the  true  nobility  of  blood,  confining  itself  within  the  strict 
limits  of  legitimate  taste,  rather  avoids  than  affects  that  mere  cost 
iiness  in  which  a, parvenu  rivalry  may  at  any  time  be  successfully 
attempted.  The  people  will  imitate  the  nobles,  and  the  result  is 
a  thorough  diffusion  of  the  proper  feeling.  But  in  America,  the 
coins  current  being  the  sole  arms  of  the  aristocracy,  their  display 
may  be  said,  in  general,  to  be  the  sole  means  of  aristocratic  dis- 
tinction ;  and  the  populace,  looking  always  upward  for  models, 
are  insensibly  led  to  confound  the  two  entirely  separate  ideas  of 
magnificence  and  beauty.  In  short,  the  cost  of  an  article  of  furni- 
ture has  at  length  come  to  be,  with  us,  nearly  the  sole  test  of  its 
merit  in  a  decorative  point  of  view — and  this  test,  once  establish- 
ed, has  led  the  way  to  many  analogous  errors,  readily  traceable 
to  the  one  primitive  folly. 

There  could  be  nothing  more  directly  offensive  to  the  eye  of  an 
artist  than  the  interior  of  what  is  termed  in  the  United  States — • 
that  is  to  say,  in  Appallachia — a  well-furnished  apartment.  Its 
most  usual  defect  is  a  want  of  keeping.  We  speak  of  the  keeping 
of  a  room  as  we  would  of  the  keeping  of  a  picture — for  both  the 
picture  and  the  room  are  amenable  to  those  undeviating  principles 
which  regulate  all  varieties  of  art;  and  very  nearly  the  same  laws 
by  which  we  decide  on  the  higher  merits  of  a  painting,  suffice  for 
decision  on  the  adjustment  of  a  chamber. 

A  want  of  keeping  is  observable  sometimes  in  the  character  of 
the  several  pieces  of  furniture,  but  generally  in  their  colors  or  modes 
of  adaptation  to  use.  Very  often  the  eye  is  offended  by  their 
inartistical  arrangement.  Straight  lines  are  too  prevalent — too 
uninterruptedly  continued — or  clumsily  interrupted  at  right  angles. 
If  curved  lines  occur,  they  are  repeated  into  unpleasant  uniformity. 
By  undue  precision,  the  appearance  of  many  a  fine  apartment  is 
utterly  spoiled. 

Curtains  are  rarely  well  disposed,  or  well  choser  in  respect  to 
other  decorations.  With  formal  furniture,-  curtains  are  out  of 
place ;  and  an  extensive  volume  of  drapery  of  any  kind  is,  under 
any  circumstances,  irreconcilable  with  good  taste — the  proper  quan- 
tum, as  well  as  the  proper  adjustment,  depending  upon  the  charac- 
ter of  the  general  effect. 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  FU11NITURE.  401 

Carpets  are  better  understood  of  late  than  of  ancient  days,  but 
we  still  very  frequently  err  in  their  patterns  and  colors.  The  soul 
of  the  apartment  is  the  carpet.  From  it  are  deduced  not  only 
the  hues  but  the  forms  of  all  objects  incumbent.  A  judge  at 
common  law  may  be  an  ordinary  man ;  a  good  judge  of  a  carpet 
must  be  a  genius.  Yet  we  have  heard  discoursing  of  carpets,  with 
the  air  "  d'un  mouton  qui  rcve"  fellows  who  should  not  and  who 
could  not  be  entrusted  with  the  management  of  their  own  mous- 
taches. Every  one  knows  that  a  large  floor  may  have  a  covering 
of  large  figures,  and  that  a  small  one  must  have  a  covering  of 
small — yet  this  is  not  all  the  knowledge  in  the  world.  As  regards 
texture,  the  Saxony  is  alone  admissible.  Brussels  is  the  preter- 
pluperfect  tense  of  fashion,  and  Turkey  is  taste  in  its  dying  ago- 
nies. Touching  pattern — a  carpet  should  not  be  bedizzened  out 
like  a  Riccaree  Indian — all  red  chalk,  yellow  ochre,  and  cock's 
feathers.  In  brief — distinct  grounds,  and  vivid  circular  or  cycloid 
figures,  of  no  meaning,  are  here  Median  laws.  The  abomination 
of  flowers,  or  representations  of  well-known  objects  of  any  kind, 
should  not  be  endured  within  the  limits  of  Christendom.  Indeed, 
whether  on  carpets,  or  curtains,  or  tapestry,  or  ottoman  coverings, 
all  upholstery  of  this  nature  should  be  rigidly  Arabesque.  As  for 
those  antique  floor-cloths  still  occasionally  seen  in  the  dwellings 
of  the  rabble — cloths  of  huge,  sprawling,  and  radiating  devises, 
stripe-interspersed,  and  glorious  with  all  hues,  among  which  no 
ground  is  intelligible — these  are  but  the  wicked  invention  of  a 
race  of  time-servers, and  money-lovers — children  of  Baal  and  wor- 
shippers of  Mammon — Benthams,  who,  to  spare  thought  and 
economize  fancy,  first  cruelly  invented  the  Kaleidoscope,  and  then 
established  joint-stock  companies  to  twirl  it  by  steam. 

Glare  is  a  leading  error  in  the  philosophy  of  American  house- 
hold decoration — an  error  easily  recognised  as  deduced  from  the 
perversion  of  taste  just  specified.  We  are  violently  enamored  of 
gas  and  of  glass.  The  former  is  totally  inadmissible  within  doors. 
Its  harsh  and  unsteady  light  offends.  No  one  having  both  brains 
and  eyes  will  use  it.  A  mild,  or  what  artists  term  a  cool  light, 
with  its  consequent  warm  shadows,  will  do  wonders  for  even  an 
ill-furnished  apartment.  Never  was  a  more  lovely  thought  than 
that  of  the  astral  lamp.  We  mean,  of  course,  the  astral  lamp 


402  PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURE. 

proper — the  lamp  of  Argand,  with  its  origitial  plain  ground-glass 
shade,  and  its  tempered  and  uniform  moonlight  rays.  The  cut- 
glass  shade  is  a  weak  invention  of  the  enemy.  The  eagerness 
with  which  we  have  adopted  it,  partly  on  account  of  its  flashiness, 
hut  principally  on  account  of  its  greater  cost,  is  a  good  commen- 
tary on  the  proposition  with  which  we  began.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say,  that  the  deliberate  employer  of  a  cut-glass  shade,  is  either 
radically  deficient  in  taste,  or  blindly  subservient  to  the  caprices 
of  fashion.  The  light  proceeding  from  one  of  these  gaudy  abomi- 
nations is  unequal,  broken,  and  painful.  It  alone  is  sufficient  to 
mar  a  world  of  good  effect  in  the  furniture  subjected  to  its  influ- 
ence. Female  loveliness,  in  especial,  is  more  than  one-half  disen- 
chanted beneath  its  evil  eye. 

In  the  matter  of  glass,  generally,  we  proceed  upon  false  prin- 
cipies.  Its  leading  feature  is  glitter — and  in  that  one  word  how 
much  of  all  that  is  detestable  do  we  express  !  Flickering,  unquiet 
lights,  are  sometimes  pleasing — to  children  and  idiots  always  so — • 
but  in  the  embellishment  of  a  room  they  should  be  scrupulously 
"voided.  In  truth,  even  strong  steady  lights  are  inadmissible. 
The  huge  and  unmeaning  glass  chandeliers,  prism-cut,  gas-lighted, 
and  without  shade,  which  dangle  in  our  most  fashionable  drawing- 
rooms,  may  be  cited  as  the  quintessence  of  all  that  is  false  in  taste 
or  preposterous  in  folly. 

The  rage  for  glitter — because  its  idea  has  become,  as  we  before 
observed,  confounded  with  that  of  magnificence  in  the  abstract — 
has  led  us,  also,  to  the  exaggerated  employment  of  mirrors.  We 
line  our  dwellings  with  great  British  plates,  and  then  imagine  we 
have  done  a  fine  thing.  Now  the  slightest  thought  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  convince  any  one  who  has  an  eye  at  all,  of  the  ill  effect 
of  numerous  looking-glasses,  and  especially  of  large  ones.  Re- 
garded apart  from  its  reflection,  the  mirror  presents  a  continuous, 
flat,  colorless,  unrelieved  surface, — a  thing  always  and  obviously 
unpleasant.  Considered  as  a  reflector,  it  is  potent  in  producing 
a  monstrous  and  odious  uniformity :  and  the  evil  is  here  aggra« 
vated,  not  in  merely  direct  proportion  with  the  augmentation  of 
its  soxirces,  but  in  a  ratio  constantly  increasing.  In  fact,  a  room 
with  four  or  five  mirrors  arranged  at  random,  is,  for  all  purposes 
of  artistic  show,  a  room  of  no  shape  at  all.  If  we  add  to  this  evil, 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURE.  433 

the  attendant  glitter  upon  glitter,  we  have  a  perfect  farrago  of 
discordant  and  displeasing  effects.  The  veriest  bumpkin,  on  enter- 
ing an  apartment  so  bedizzeued,  would  be  instantly  aware  of  some- 
thing wrong,  although  he  might  be  altogether  unable  to  assign  a 
cause  for  his  dissatisfaction.  But  let  the  same  person  be  led  into 
a  room  tastefully  furnished,  and  he  would  be  startled  into  an  ex 
clamation  of  pleasure  and  surprise. 

It  is  an  evil  growing  out  of  our  republican  institutions,  that, 
here  a  man  of  large  purse  has  usually  a  very  little  soul  which  he 
keeps  in  it.  The  corruption  of  taste  is  a  portion  or  a  pendant  of 
the  dollar-manufacture.  As  we  grow  rich,  our  ideas  grow  rusty. 
It  is,  therefore,  not  among  our  aristocracy  that  we  must  look  (if 
at  all,  in  Appallachia,)  for  the  spirituality  of  a  British  boudoir 
But  we  have  seen  apartments  in  the  tenure  of  Americans  of  modern 
means,  which,  in  negative  merit  at  least,  might  vie  with  any  of 
the  or-molu'd  cabinets  of  our  friends  across  the  water.  Even  now, 
there  is  present  to  our  mind's  eye  a  small  and  not  ostentatious 
chamber  with  whose  decorations  no  fault  can  be  found.  The 
proprietor  lies  asleep  on  a  sofa — the  weather  is  cool — the  time  is 
near  midnight :  we  will  make  a  sketch  of  the  room  during  his 
slumber. 

It  is  oblong — some  thirty  feet  in  length  and  twenty-five  in 
breadth — a  shape  affording  the  best  (ordinary)  opportunities  for 
the  adjustment  of  furniture.  It  has  but  one  door — by  .jo  means 
a  wide  one — which  is  at  one  end  of  the  parallelogram,  and  but 
two  windows,  which  are  at  the  other.  These  latter  ure  large, 
reaching  down  to  the  floor — have  deep  recesses — and  open  on  an 
Italian  veranda.  Their  panes  are  of  a  crimson- tinted  glass,  set  in 
rose-wood  framings,  more  massive  than  usual.  They  are  curtained 
within  the  recess,  by  a  thick  silver  tissue  adapted  to  the  shape  of 
the  window,  and  hanging  loosely  in  small  volumes.  Without  the 
recess  are  curtains  of  an  exceedingly  rich  crimson  silk,  fringed  with 
a  deep  network  of  gold,  and  lined  with  the  silver  tissue,  which  is 
the  material  of  the  exterior  blind.  There  are  no  cornices  ;  but  tho 
folds  of  the  whole  fabric  (which  are  sharp  rather  than  massive, 
and  have  an  airy  appearance,)  issue  from  beneath  a  broad  entjtbla- 
ture  of  rich  giltwork,  which  encircles  the  room  at  the  junction 
of  the  ceiling  and  walls.  The  drapery  is  thrown  ope*,  also,  or 


4U4  PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURh-. 

closed,  by  means  of  a  thick  rope  of  gold  loosely  enveloping  it,  and 
resolving  itself  readily  into  a  knot ;  no  pins  or  other  such  devices 
are  apparent.  The  colors  of  the  curtains  and  their  fringe — the 
tints  of  crimson  and  gold — appear  everywhere  in  profusion,  and 
determine  the  character  of  the  room.  The  carpet — of  Saxony 
material— is  quite  half  an  inch  thick,  and  is  of  the  same  crimson 
ground,  relieved  simply  by  the  appearance  of  a  gold  cord  (like  that 
festooning  the  curtains)  slightly  relieved  above  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  and  thrown  upon  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  form  a  suc- 
cession of  short  irregular  curves — one  occasionally  overlaying  the 
other.  The  walls  are  prepared  with  a  glossy  paper  of  a  silver  gray 
tint,  spotted  with  small  Arabesque  devices  of  a  fainter  hue  of  the 
prevalent  crimson.  Many  paintings  relieve  the  expanse  of  the 
paper.  These  are  chiefly  landscapes  of  an  imaginative  cast — such 
as  the  fairy  grottoes  of  Stanfield,  or  the  lake  of  the  Dismal  Swamp 
of  Chapman.  There  are,  nevertheless,  three  or  four  female  heads, 
of  an  ethereal  beauty — portraits  in  the  manner  of  Sully.  The 
tone  of  each  picture  is  warm,  but  dark.  There  are  no  "  brilliant 
effects."  Repose  speaks  in  all.  Not  one  is  of  small  size.  Di- 
minutive paintings  give  that  spotty  look  to  a  room,  which  is  the 
blemish  of  so  many  a  fine  work  of  Art  overtouched.  The  frames 
are  broad  but  not  deep,  and  richly  carved,  without  being  dulled 
or  filagreed.  They  have  the  whole  lustre  of  burnished  gold. 
They  lie  flat  on  the  walls,  and  do  not  hang  off  with  cords.  The 
designs  themselves  are  often  seen  to  better  advantage  in  this  latter 
position,  but  the  general  appearance  of  the  chamber  is  injured. 
But  one  mirror— and  this  not  a  very  large  one — is  visible.  In 
shape  it  is  nearly  circular — and  it  is  hung  so  that  a  reflection  of 
the  person  can  be  obtained  from  it  in  none  of  the  ordinary  sitting- 
places  of  the  room.  Two  large  low  sofas  of  rosewood  and  crimson 
silk,  gold-flowered,  form  the  only  seats,  with  the  exception  of  two 
light  conversation  chairs,  also  of  rose-wood.  There  is  a  piano- 
forte, (rose-wood,  also,)  without  cover,  and  thrown  open.  An 
octagonal  table,  formed  altogether  of  the  richest  gold-threaded 
marble,  is  placed  near  one  of  the  sofas.  This  is  also  without 
cover — the  drapery  of  the  curtains  has  been  thought  sufficient. 
Four  large  and  gorgeous  Sevres  vases,  in  which  bloom  a  profusion 
of  sweet  and  vivid  flowers,  occupy  the  slightly  rounded  angles  of 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  FURNITURE,  40o 

the  room.  A  tall  candelabrum,  bearing  a  small  antique  lamp 
with  highly  perfumed  oil,  is  standing  near  the  head  of  my  sleeping 
friend.  Some  light  and  graceful  hanging  shelves,  with  golden 
edges  and  crimson  silk  cords  with  gold  tassels,  sustain  two  ot 
three  hundred  magnificently  bound  books.  Beyond  these  things, 
there  is  no  furniture,  if  we  except  an  Argand  lamp,  with  a  plain 
crimson-tinted  ground-glass  shade,  which  depends  from  the  lofty 
vaulted  ceiling  by  a  single  slender  gold  chain,  and  throws  a  tran 
QUL  but  magical  radiance  over  all. 


A  TALE  OF  JERUSALEM, 


Intensos  rigidam  in  frontem  ascendere  canos 

Passus  erat 

LUCAN — De  Catone. 

a  bristly  bore. 

Translation. 


"  LET  us  hurry  to  the  walls,"  said  Abel-Phittim  to  Buzi-Ben< 
Levi  and  Simeon  the  Pharisee,  on  the  tenth  day  of  the  month 
Thammuz,  in  the  year  of  the  world  three  thousand  nine  hundred 
and  forty-one — "  let  us  hasten  to  the  ramparts  adjoining  the  gates 
of  Benjamin,  which  is  in  the  city  of  David,  and  overlooking  the 
camp  of  the  uncircumcised ;  for  it  is  the  last  hour  of  the  fourth 
watch,  being  sunrise ;  and  the  idolaters,  in  fulfilment  of  the  pro- 
raise  of  Pompey,  should  be  awaiting  us  with  the  lambs  for  the 
sacrifices." 

Simeon,  Abel-Phittim,  and  Buzi-Ben-Levi,  were  the  Gizbanrn, 
01  sub-collectors  of  the  offering,  in  the  holy  city  of  Jerusalem. 

"  Verily,"  replied  the  Pharisee,  "  let  us  hasten  :  for  this  generos- 
ity in  the  heathen  is  unwonted;  and  fickle-mindedness  has  ever 
been  an  attribute  of  the  worshippers  of  Baal." 

"  That  they  are  fickle-minded  and  treacherous  is  as  true  as  the  Pen- 
tateuch," said  Buzi-Ben-Levi,  "  but  that  is  only  towards  the  people 
of  Adonai.  "When  was  it  ever  known  that  the  Ammonites  proved 
wanting  to  their  own  interests  ?  Methinks  it  is  no  great  stretch 
of  generosity  to  allow  us  lambs  for  the  altar  of  the  Lord,  receiving 
in  lieu  thereof  thirty  silver  shekels  per  head  !" 

"Thou  forgettest,  however,  Ben-Levi,"  replied  Abel-Phittim, 
"  that  the  Roman  Pompey,  who  is  now  impiously  besieging  the 


A  TALE  OF  JERUSALEM.  407 

city  of  the  Most  High,  has  no  assurity  that  we  apply  not  the 
iambs  thus  purchased  for  the  altar,  to  the  sustenance  of  the  body, 
rather  than  of  the  spirit." 

"  Now,  by  the  five  corners  of  my  beard,"  shouted  the  Pharisee, 
who  belonged  to  the  sect  called  The  Dashers  (that  little  knot  of 
saints  whose  manner  of  dashiny  and  lacerating  the  feet  against 
the  pavement  was  long  a  thorn  and  a  reproach  to  less  zealous 
devotees — a  stumbling  block  to  less  gifted  perambulators) — "by 
the  five  corners  of  that  beard  which  as  a  priest  I  am  forbidden  to 
shave  ! — have  we  lived  to  see  the  day  when  a  blaspheming  and 
idolatrous  upstart  of  Rome  shall  accuse  us  of  appropriating  to  the 
appetites  of  the  flesh  the  most  holy  and  consecrated  elements  3 
Have  we  lived  to  see  the  day  when" 

"  Let  us  not  question  the  motives  of  the  Philistine,"  interrupted 
Abel-Phittem,  "  for  to-day  we  profit  for  the  first  time  by  his 
avarice  or  by  his  generosity  ;  but  rather  let  us  hurry  to  the 
ramparts,  lest  offerings  should  be  wanting  for  that  altar  whose  fire 
the  rains  of  heaven  cannot  extinguish,  and  whose  pillars  of  smoke 
no  tempest  can  turn  aside." 

That  part  of  the  city  to  which  our  worthy  Gizbarim  now  hast- 
ened, and  which  bore  the  name  of  its  architect  King  David,  was 
esteemed  the  most  strongly  fortified  district  of  Jerusalem ;  being 
situated  upon  the  steep  and  lofty  hill  of  Zion.  Here  a  broad, 
deep,  circumvallatory  trench,  hewn  from  the  solid  rock,  was 
defended  by  a  wall  of  great  strength  erected  upon  its  inner  edge. 
This  wall  was  adorned,  at  regular  interspaces,  by  square  towers  of 
white  marble ;  the  lowest  sixty,  and  the  highest  one  hundred  and 
twenty  cubits  in  height.  But,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  gate  of  Benjamin, 
the  wall  arose  by  no  means  from  the  margin  of  the  fosse.  On  the 
contrary,  between  the  level  of  the  ditch  and  the  basement  of  the 
rampart,  sprang  up  a  perpendicular  cliff  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
cubits  ;  forming  part  of  the  precipitous  Mount  Moriah.  So  that 
when  Simeon  and  his  associates  arrived  on  the  Summit  of  the 
tower  called  Adoni-Bezek — the  loftiest  of  all  the  turrets  around 
about  Jerusalem,  and  the  usual  place  of  conference  with  the 
besieging  army — they  looked  down  upon  the  camp  of  the  enemy 
from  an  eminence  excelling  by  many  feet,  that  of  the  Pyramid  of 
Cheops,  and,  by  several,  that  of  the  temple  of  Belus. 


408  A  TALE  OF  JERUSALEM. 

"  Verily,"  sighed  the  Pharisee,  as  he  peered  dizzily  over  the 
precipice,  "  the  uncircumcised  are  as  the  sands  by  the  sea-shore — • 
as  the  locusts  in  the  wilderness  !  The  valley  of  The  King  hath 
become  the  vally  of  Adommin." 

"  And  yet,"  added  Ben-Levi,  "  thou  canst  not  point  me  out  a 
Philistine — no,  not  one — from  Aleph  to  Tau — from  the  wilder- 
ness to  the  battlements — who  seemeth  any  bigger  than  the  letter 
Jod!" 

"  Lower  away  the  basket  with  the  shekels  of  silver !"  here 
shouted  a  Roman  soldier  in  a  hoarse,  rough  voice,  which  appeared 
to  issue  from  the  regions  of  Pluto — "  lower  away  the  basket  with 
the  accursed  coin  which  it  has  broken  the  jaw  of  a  noble  Roman 
to  pronounce  !  Is  it  thus  you  evince  your  gratitude  to  our  master 
Pompeius,  who,  in  his  condescension,  has  thought  fit  to  listen  to 
your  idolatrous  importunities  ?  The  god  Phoebus,  who  is  a  true 
god,  has  been  charioted  for  an  hour — and  were  you  not  to  be  on 
the  ramparts  by  sunrise  ?  vEdepol !  do  you  think  that  we,  the 
conquerors  of  the  world,  have  nothing  better  to  do  than  stand 
waiting  by  the  walls  of  every  kennel,  to  traffic  with  the  dogs  of 
the  earth  ?  Lower  away  !  I  say — and  see  that  your  trumpery  be 
bright  in  color,  and  just  in  weight!" 

"  El  Elohirn  !"  ejaculated  the  Pharisee,  as  the  discordant  tones 
of  the  centurion  rattled  up  the  crags  of  the  precipice,  and  fainted 
away  against  the  temple — "El  Elohim! — who  is  the  God  Phoe- 
bus?— whom  doth  the  blasphemer  invoke?  Thou,  Buzi-Ben-Levi! 
who  art  read  in  the  laws  of  the  Gentiles,  and  hast  sojourned  among 
them  who  dabble  with  the  Teraphim ! — is  it  Nergal  of  whom  the 
idolater  speaketh? — or  Ashimah? — or  Nibhaz? — or  Tartak? — or 
Adranaalech  ? — or  Anamalech? — or  Succoth-Benith  ? — or  Dao-on? 

O 

• — or  Belial?  —  or  Baal-Perith?  —  or  Baal-Peor? — or  Baal-Ze- 
bub?" 

"  Verily  it  is  neither — but  beware  how  thou  lettest  the  rope 
slip  too  rapidly  through  thy  fingers;  for  should  the  wicker-work 
chance  to  hang  on  the  projection  of  yonder  crag,  there  will  be  a 
woful  outpouring  of  the  holy  things  of  the  santuary." 

By  the  assistance  of  some  rudely  constructed  machinery,  thtj 
heavily  laden  basket  was  now  carefully  lowered  down  among  the 
multitude;  and,  from  the  giddy  pinnacle,  the  Romans  were  seen 


A  TALE  01  JERUSALEM.  409 

gathering  confusedly  round  it;  but  owing  to  the  vast  height  and 
the  prevalence  of  a  fog,  no  distinct  -view  of  their  operations  could 
be  obtained. 

Half  an  hour  had  already  elapsed. 

"  We  shall  be  too  late,"  sighed  the  Pharisee,  as  at  the  expira- 
tion of  this  period,  he  looked  over  into  the  abyss — "we  shall  be 
too  late !  we  shall  be  turned  out  of  office  by  the  Katholim." 

"  No  more,"  responded  Abel-Phi tti in,  "  -10  more  shall  we  feast 
upon  the  fat  ol  the  land — no  longer  shall  our  beards  be  odorous 
with  frankincense — our  loins  gi-ded  up  with  fine  linen  from  thq 
Temple." 

"Raca!"  swore  Ben-Levi,  "Raca!  do  they  mean  to  defraud  us 
of  the  purchase  money  ?  or,  Holy  Moses !  are  they  weighing  the 
shekels  of  the  tabernacle  ?" 

"  They  have  given  the  signal  at  last,"  cried  the  Pharisee,  "they 
have  given  the  signal  at  last! — pull  away,  Abel-Phittim ! — and 
thou,  Buzi-Ben-Levi,  pull  away! — for  verily  the  Philistines  have 
either  still  hold  upon  the  basket,  or  the  Lord  hath  softened  their 
hearts  to  place  therein  a  beast  of  good  weight!"  And  the  Gizba- 
rim  pulled  away,  while  their  burthen  swung  heavily  upwards 
through  the  still  increasing  mist. 

********* 

"Booshoh  he!" — as,  at  the  conclusion  of  an  hour,  some  object 
at  the  extremity  of  the  rope  became  indistinctly  visible — "Boos 
hoh  he!"  was  the  exclamation  which  burst  from  the  lips  of  Ben 
Levi. 

"  Booshoh  he ! — for  shame ! — it  is  a  ram  from  the  thickets  of 
Engedi,  and  as  rugged  as  the  valley  of  Jehosaphat !" 

"It  is  a  firstling  of  the  flock,"  said  Abel-Phittim,  "  I  know  him 
by  the  bleating  of  his  lips,  ant1,  the  innocent  folding  of  his  limbs. 
II is  eyes  are  more  beautiful  than  the  jewels  of  the  Pectoral,  and 
his  flesh  is  like  the  honey  of  Hebron." 

"  It  is  a  fatted  calf  from  the  pastures  of  Bashan,"  said  the  Pha- 
risee, "the  heathen  have  dealt  wonderfully  with  us! — let  us  raise 
up  our  voices  in  a  psalm ! — let  us  give  thanks  on  the  shawm  and 
on  the  psaltery — on  the  harp  and  on  the  huggab — on  the  cythern 
and  on  the  sackbut!" 

It  was  not  until  the  basket  had  arrived  within  a  few  feet  of  the 


410  A  TALE  OF  JERUSALEM. 

Gizbarim,  that  a  low  grunt  betrayed  to  their  perception  a  hog  oi 
no  common  size. 

"Now  El  Emanu!"  slowly,  and  with  upturned  eyes  ejaculated 
the  trio,  as,  letting  go  their  hold,  the  emancipated  porker  tumbled 
headlong  among  the  Philistines,  "El  Emanu! — God  be  with  UK 
— it  is  the  unutterable  flesh!" 


DURING  the  dread  reign  of  the  Cholera  in  New-Yjrk,  I  had 
accepted  the  invitation  of  a  relative  to  spend  a  fortnight  with  him 
in  the  retirement  of  his  cottage  ornee  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson, 
We  had  here  around  us  all  the  ordinary  means  of  summer  amuso- 
aient ;  and  what  with  rambling  in  the  woods,  sketching,  boating, 
fishing,  bathing,  music  and  books,  we  should  have  passed  the  time 
pleasantly  enough,  but  for  the  fearful  intelligence  which  reached 
us  every  morning  from  the  populous  city.  Not  a  day  elapsed 
which  did  not  bring  us  news  of  the  decease  of  some  acquaintance. 
Then,  as  the  fatality  increased,  we  learned  to  expect  daily  the  loss 
of 'some  friend.  At  length  we  trembled  at  the  approach  of  every 
messenger.  The  very  air  from  the  South  seemed  to  us  redolent 
with  death.  That  palsying  thought,  indeed,  took  entire  possession 
of  my  soul.  I  could  neither  speak,  think,  nor  dream  of  anything 
else.  My  host  was  of  a  less  excitable  temperament,  and,  although 
greatly  depressed  in  spirits,  exerted  himself  to  sustain  my  own. 
His  richly  philosophical  intellect  was  not  at  any  time  affected  by 
unrealities.  To  the  substances  of  terror  he  was  sufficiently  alive, 
but  of  its  shadows  he  had  no  apprehension. 

His  endeavors  to  arouse  me  from  the  condition  of  abnormal 
gloom  into  which  I  had  fallen,  were  frustrated  in  great  measure, 
by  certain  volumes  which  I  had  found  in  his  library.  These  were 
of  a  character  to  force  into  germination  whatever  seeds  of  heredi- 
tary superstition  lay  latent  in  my  bosom.  I  had  been  reading 
these  books  without  his  knowledge,  and  thus  he  was  often  at  a 


412  THE  SPHINX. 

loss  to  account  for  the  forcible  impressions  which  had  been  made 
upon  my  fancy. 

A  favorite  topic  with  me  was  the  popular  belief  in  omens — a 
belief  which,  at  this  one  epoch  of  my  life,  I  was  almost  seriously 
disposed  to  defend.  On  this  subject  we  had  long  and  animated 
discussions — he  maintaining  the  utter  groundlessness  of  faith  in 
such  matters — I  contending  that  a  popular  sentiment  arising  with 
absolute  spontaneity — that  is  to  say,  without  apparent  traces  of 
suggestion — had  in  itself  the  unmistakeable  elements  of  truth, 
and  was  entitled  to  much  respect. 

The  fact  is,  that  soon  after  my  arrival  at  the  cottage,  there  had 
occurred  to  myself  an  incident  so  entirely  inexplicable,  and  which 
had  in  it  so  much  of  the  portentous  character,  that  I  might  well 
have  been  excused  for  regarding  it  as  an  omen.  It  appalled,  and 
at  the  same  time  so  confounded  and  bewildered  me,  that  many 
days  elapsed  before  I  could  make  up  my  mind  to  communicate 
the  circumstance  to  my  friend. 

Near  the  close  of  an  exceedingly  warm  day,  I  was  sitting,  book 
in  hand,  at  an  open  window,  commanding,  through  a  long  vista 
of  the  river  banks,  a  view  of  a  distant  hill,  the  face  of  which 
nearest  my  position,  had  been  denuded,  by  what  is  termed  a  land- 
slide, of  the  principal  portion  of  its  trees.  My  thoughts  had  been 
long  wandering  from  the  volume  before  me  to  the  gloom  and  deso- 
lation of  the  neighboring  city.  Uplifting  my  eyes  from  the  page, 
they  fell  upon  the  naked  face  of  the  hill,  and  upon  an  object — 
upon  some  living  monster  of  hideous  conformation,  which  very 
rapidly  made  its  way  from  the  summit  to  the  bottom,  disappear- 
ing finally  in  the  dense  forest  below.  As  this  creature  first  came 
in  sight,  I  doubted  my  own  sanity — or  at  least  the  evidence  of  my 
own  eyes  ;  and  many  minutes  passed  before  I  succeeded  in  con- 
vincing myself  that  I  was  neither  mad  nor  in  a  dream.  Yet  when 
I  describe  the  monster,  (which  I  distinctly  saw,  and  calmly  sur- 
veyed through  the  whole  period  of  its  progress,)  my  readers,  I 
fear,  will  feel  more  difficulty  in  being  convinced  of  these  points 
than  even  I  did  myself. 

Estimating  the  size  of  the  creature  by  comparison  with  the 
diameter  of  the  large  trees  near  which  it  passed — the  few  giants 
of  the.  forest  which  had  escaped  the  fury  of  the  land-slide-  —I 


THE  SPHINX.  413 

concluded  it  to  be  far  larger  than  any  ship  of  the  line  in  existence. 
I  say  ship  of  the  line,  because  the  shape  of  the  monster  suggested 
the  idea — the  hull  of  one  of  our  seventy-fours  might  convey  a 
very  tolerable  conception  of  the  general  outline.  The  mouth  of 
the  animal  was  situated  at  the  extremity  of  a  proboscis  some  sixty 
or  seventy  feet  in  length,  and  about  as  thick  as  the  body  of  an 
ordinary  elephant.  Near  the  root  of  this  trunk  was  an  immense 
quantity  of  black  shaggy  hair — more  than  could  have  been  sup- 
plied by  the  coats  of  a  score  of  buffaloes ;  and  projecting  from 
this  hair  downwardly  and  laterally,  sprang  two  gleaming  tusks 
not  unlike  those  of  the  wild  boar,  but  of  infinitely  greater  dimen- 
sion. Extending  forward,  parallel  with  the  proboscis,  and  on  each 
side  of  it,  was  a  gigantic  staff,  thirty  or  forty  feet  in  length,  formed 
seemingly  of  pure  crystal,  and  in  shape  a  perfect  prism  :— it  re- 
flected in  the  most  gorgeous  manner  the  rays  of  the  declining  sun. 
The  trunk  was  fashioned  like  a  wedge  with  the  apex  to  the  earth. 
From  it  there  were  outspread  two  pairs  of  wings — each  wing 
nearly  one  hundred  yards  in  length — one  pair  being  placed  above 
the  other,  and  all  thickly  covered  with  metal  scales  ;  each  scale 
apparently  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  diameter.  I  observed  that, 
the  upper  and 'lower  tiers  of  wings  were  connected  by  a  strong 
chain.  But  the  chief  peculiarity  of  this  horrible  thing,  was  the 
representation  of  a  Death's  Head,  which  covered  nearly  the  whole 
surface  of  its  breast,  and  which  was  as  accurately  traced  in  glaring 
white,  upon  the  dark  ground  of  the  body,  as  if  it  had  been  there 
carefully  designed  by  an  artist.  While  I  regarded  this  terrific 
animal,  and  more  especially  the  appearance  on  its  breast,  with  a 
feeling  of  horror  and  awe — with  a  sentiment  of  forthcoming  evil, 
which  I  found  it  impossible  to  quell  by  any  effort  of  the  reason,  I 
perceived  the  huge  jaws  at  the  extremity  of  the  proboscis,  sud- 
denly expand  themselves,  and  from  them  there  proceeded  a  sound 
f,  >  loud  and  so  expressive  of  wo,  that  it  struck  upon  my  ner:es 
like  a  knell,  and  as  the  monster  disappeared  at  the  foot  of  the 
bill,  I  fell  at  once,  fainting,  to  the  floor. 

Upon  recovering,  my  first  impulse  of  course  was,  to  inform  my 
friend  of  what  I  had  seen  and  heard — and  I  can  scarcely  explain 
what  feeling  of  repugnance  it  was,  which,  in  the  end.  operated  to 
prevent  me. 


414  THE  SPHINX. 

At  length,  one  evening,  some  three  or  four  clays  ifter  the  occur- 
rence, we  were  sitting  together  in  the  room  in  which  I  had  seen 
the  apparition — I  occupying  the  same  seat  at  the  same  window, 
and  he  lounging  on  a  sofa  near  at  hand.  The  association  of  the 
place  and  time  impelled  me  to  give  him  an  account  of  the  phe- 
nomenon. He  heard  me  to  the  end — at  first  laughed  heartily — 
mid  then  lapsed  into  an  excessively  grave  demeanor,  as  if  my  in- 
sanity was  a  thing  beyond  suspicion.  At  this  instant  I  again  had 
a  distinct  view  of  the  monster— to  which,  with  a  shout  of  abso- 
lute terror,  I  now  directed  his  attention.  He  looked  eagerly — but 
maintained  that  he  saw  nothing — although  I  designated  minutely 
the  course  of  the  creature,  as  it  made  its  way  down  the  naked 
face  of  the  hill. 

1  was  now  immeasurably  alarmed,  for  I  considered  the  vision 
either  as  an  omen  of  my  death,  or,  worse,  as  the  forerunner  of 
an  attack  of  mania.  I  threw  myself  passionately  back  in  my 
chair,  and  for  some  moments  buried  my  face  in  my  hands.  When 
I  uncovered  my  eyes,  the  apparition  was  no  longer  visible. 

My  host,  however,  had  in  some  degree  resumed  the  calmness 
of  his  demeanor,  and  questioned  me  very  rigorously  in  respect  to 
the  conformation  of  the  visionary  creature.  When  I  had  fully 
satisfied  him  on  this  head,  he  sighed  deeply,  as  if  relieved  of  some 
intolerable  burden,  and  went  on  to  talk,  with  what  I  thought  a 
cruel  calmness,  of  various  points  of  speculative  philosophy,  which 
had  heretofore  formed  subject  of  discussion  between  us.  I  remem- 
ber his  insisting  very  especially  (among  other  things)  upon  the 
idea  that  the  principal  source  of  error  in  all  human  investigations, 
lay  in  the  liability  of  the  understanding  to  under-rate  or  to  over- 
value the  importance  of  an  object,  through  mere  misadmeasure- 
ment  of  its  propinquity.  "  To  estimate  properly,  for  example,"  he 
said,  "  the  influence  to  be  exercised  on  mankind  at  large  by  the 
thoiough  diffusion  of  Democracy,  the  distance  of  the  epoch  at 
which  such  diffusion  may  possibly  be  accomplished,  should  not  fail 
to  form  an  item  in  the  estimate.  Yet  can  you  tell  me  one  writer 
on  the  subject  of  government,  who  has  ever  thought  this  particu- 
lar branch  of  the  subject  worthy  of  discussion  at  all  ?" 

He  here  paused  for  a  moment,  stepped  to  a  book-case,  and 
brought  forth  one  of  the  ordinary  synopses  of  Natural  History. 


THE  SPHINX.  415 

Requesting  me  then  to  exchange  seats  with  him,  that  he  miirht 
the  better  distinguish  the  fine  print  of  the  volume,  he  took  my 
arm-chair  at  the  window,  and,  opening  the  book,  resumed  his  dis- 
course veiy  much  in  the  same  tone  as  before. 

"But  for  your  exceeding  minuteness,"  he  said,  "  in  describing 
the  monster,  I  might  never  have  had  it  in  my  power  to  demon- 
strate to  you  what  it  was.  In  the  first  place,  let  me  read  to  you  a 
school-boy  account  of  the  genus  Sphinx,  of  the  family  Crepuscu- 
laria,  of  the  order  Lepidoptera,  of  the  class  of  Insecta — or  insects. 
The  account  runs  thus : 

"  '  Four  membranous  wings  covered  vith  little  colored  scales  of 
a  metallic  appearance  ;  mouth  forming  a  .  oiled  proboscis,  produc 
ed  by  an  elongation  of  the  jaws,  upon  the  sides  of  which  are 
found  the  rudiments  of  manibles  and  downy  palpi  ;  the  inferior 
wings  retained  to  the  superior  by  a  stiff  hair ;  autennoe  in  the 
form  of  an  elongated  club,  prismatic ;  abdomen  pointed.  The 
Death's-headed  Sphinx  has  occasioned  much  terror  among  the 
vulgar,  at  times,  by  the  melancholy  kind  of  cry  which  :t  utters, 
and  the  insignia  of  death  which  it  wears  upon  its  corslet.' " 

He  here  closed  the  book  and  leaned  forward  in  the  ch?ur,  placing 
himself  accurately  in  the  position  which  I  had  occupied  at  the 
moment  of  beholding  "  the  monster." 

''  Ah,  here  it  is  !"  he  presently  exclaimed — "  it  is  reascendin^ 
the  face  of  the  hill,  and  a  very  remarkable  looking  creature,  I 
admit  it  to  be.  Still,  it  is  by  no  means  so  large  or  so  distant  as 
you  imagined  it ;  for  the  fact  is  that,  as  it  wriggles  its  way  up 
this  thread,  which  some  spider  has  wrought  along  the  window- 
sash,  I  find  it  to  be  about  the  sixteenth  of  an  inch  in  its  extreme 
length,  and  also  about  the  sixteenth  of  an  inch  distant  from  the 
pupil  of  my  eye." 


THE   MAN   OF   THE   CROWD 


Ce  grand  mallieur,  de  ne  pouvoir  etre  senl. 

La  Bruyf-re. 

IT  was  well  said  of  a  certain  German  book  that  "  er  lasst  sich 
.licht  lesen" — it  does  not  permit  itself  to  be  read.  There  are 
some  secrets  which  do  not  permit  themselves  to  be  told.  Men  die 
nightly  in  their  beds,  wringing  the  hands  of  ghostly  confessors, 
and  looking  them  piteously  in  the  eyes — die  with  despair  of  hear4 
and  convulsion  of  throat,  on  account  of  the  hideousness  of  myste- 
ries which  will  not  suffer  themselves  to  be  revealed.  Now  ana 
then,  alas,  the  conscience  of  man  takes  up  a  burthen  so  heavy  in 
horror  that  it  can  be  thrown  down  only  into  the  grave.  And  thus 
the  essence  of.  all  crime  is  undivulged. 

Not  long  ago,  about  the  closing  in  of  an  evening  in  autumn,  i 
sat  at  the  large  bow  window  of  the  D Coffee-House  in  Lon- 
don. For  some  months  I  had  been  ill  in  health,  but  was  now 
convalescent,  and,  with  returning  strength,  found  myself  in  one 
of  those  happy  moods  which  are  so  precise!"  'he  converse  of  en- 
nui— moods  of  the  keenest  appetency,  wht-n  the  film  from  the 
mental  vision  departs — the  npcx"J  °«  *•(""  ^i™ — and  the  intellect, 
electrified,  surpasses  as  greatly  its  every-day  condition,  as  dooa 
the  vivid  yet  candid  reason  of  Leibnitz,  the  mad  and  flimsy 
rhetoric  of  Gorgias.  Merely  to  breathe  was  enjoyment ;  and  I  de- 
rived positive  pleasure  even  from  many  of  the  legitimate  source^  of 
pain.  I  felt  a  calm  but  inquisitive  interest  in'  every  thing.  With 
a  cigar  in  my  mouth  and  a  newspaper  in  my  lap,  I  had  been 
amusing  myself  for  the  greater  pan  of  the  afternoon,  now  in 


THE  MA.N  OF  THE  CROWD.  417 

poring  over  advertisements,  now  in  observing  the  promiscuous 
company  in  the  room,  and  now  in  peering  through  the  smoky 
panes  into  the  street. 

This  latter  is  one  of  the  principal  thoroughfares  of  the  city, 
and  had  been  very  much  crowded  during  the  whole  day.  But, 
as  the  darkness  came  on,  the  throng  momently  increased  ;  and,  by 
the  time  the  lamps  were  well  lighted,  two  dense  and  continuous 
tides  of  population  were  rushing  past  the  door.  At  this  particu- 
lar period  of  the  evening  I  had  never  before  been  in  a  similar  sit- 
uation, and  the  tumultuous  sea  of  human  heads  filled  me,  there- 
fore,  with  a  delicious  novelty  of  emotion.  I  gave  up,  at  length, 
all  care  of  things  within  the  hotel,  and  became  absorbed  in  con. 
templation  of  the  scene  without. 

At  first  my  observations  took  an  abstract  and  generalizing 
turn.  I  looked  at  the  passengers  in  masses,  and  thought  of  them 
in  their  aggregate  relations.  Soon,  however,  I  descended  to  de- 
tails, and  regarded  with  minute  interest  the  innumerable  varie- 
ties of  figure,  dress,  air,  gait,  visage,  and  expression  of  counte- 
nance. 

By  far  the  greater  number  of  those  who  went  by  had  a  satis- 
fied business-like  demeanor,  and  seemed  to-be  thinking  only  of 
making  their  way  through  the  press.  Their  brows  were  knit, 
and  their  eyes  rolled  quickly ;  when  pushed  against  by  fellow, 
wayfarers  they  evinced  no  symptom  of  impatience,  but  adjusted 
their  clothes  and  hurried  on.  Others,  still  a  numerous  class, 
were  restless  in  their  movements,  had  flushed  faces,  and  talked 
and  gesticulated  to  themselves,  as  if  feeling  in  solitude  on  account 
of  the  very  denseness  of  the  company  around.  When  impeded 
iu  their  progress,  these  people  suddenly  ceased  muttering,  but  re- 
doubled their  gesticulations,  and  awaited,  with  an  absent  and 
overdone  smile  upon  the  lips,  the  course  of  the  persons  impeding 
them.  If  jostled,  they  bowed  profusely  to  the  jostlers,  and  ap- 
peared overwhelmed  with  confusion. — There  was  nothing  very 
distinctive  about  these  two  large  classes  beyond  what  I  have  noted 
Their  habiliments  belonged  to  that  order  which  is  pointedly  term- 
ed  the  decent.  They  were  undoubtedly  noblemen,  merchants, 
attorneys,  tradesmen,  stock-jobbers — the  Eupatrids  and  the  com- 
mon-places o^  society — men  of  leisure  and  men  actively  engaged 


418  THE  MAN   OF  THE  CROWD. 

in  affairs  of  their  own — conducting  business  upon  their  own  re. 
sponsibility.  They  did  not  greatly  excite  my  attention.* 

The  tribe  of  clerks  was  an  obvious  one  ;  and  here  I  discerned 
two  remarkable  divisions.  There  were  the  junior  clerks  of  flash 
nouses — young  gentlemen  with  tight  coats,  bright  boots,  well-oiled 
hair,  and  supercilious  lips.  Setting  aside  a  certain  dapperness  of 
carriage,  which  may  be  termed  deskism  for  want  of  a  better 
word,  the  manner  of  these  persons  seemed  to  me  an  exact  fac- 
simile of  what  had  been  the  perfection  of  bon  ton  about  twelve  or 
eighteen  months  before.  They  wore  the  cast-off  graces  of  the 
gentry ; — and  this,  I  believe,  involves  the  best  definition  of  the 
class. 

The  division  of  the  upper  clerks  of  staunch  firms,  or  of  the 
"  steady  old  fellows,"  it  was  not  possible  to  mistake.  These 
were  known  by  their  coats  and  pantaloons  of  black  or  brown, 
made  to  sit  comfortably,  with  white  cravats  and  waistcoats,  broad 
solid-looking  shoes,  and  thick  hose  or  gaiters. — They  had  all 
slightly  bald  heads,  from  which  the  right  ears,  long  used  to  pen- 
holding,  had  an  odd  habit  of  standing  off  on  end.  I  observed 
that  they  always  removed  or  settled  their  hats  with  both  hands, 
and  wore  watches,  with  short  gold  chains  of  a  substantial  and 
ancient  pattern.  Theirs  was  the  affectation  of  respectability  ;— 
if  indeed  there  be  an  affectation  so  honorable. 

There  were  many  individuals  of  dashing  appearance,  whom  1 
easily  understood  as  belonging  to  the  race  of  swell  pick-pockets, 
with  which  all  great  cities  are  infested.  I  watched  these  gentry 
with  much  inquisitiveness,  and  found  it  difficult  to  imagine  hov» 
they  should  ever  be  mistaken  for  gentlemen  by  gentlemen  them- 
selves.  Their  voluminousness  of  wristband,  with  an  air  of  ex- 
cessive frankness,  should  betray  them  at  once. 

The  gamblers,  of  whom  I  descried  not  a  few,  were  still  more 
easily  recognisable.  They  wore  every  variety  of  dress,  from 
that  of  the  desperate  thimble-rig  bully,  with  velvet  waistcoat, 
fancy  neckerchief,  gilt  chains,  and  filagreea  buttons,  to  that  oi 
the  scrupulously  inornate  clergyman,  than  which  nothi  ig  could 
be  less  liable  to  suspicion.  Still  all  were  distinguished  by  a  cer- 
lain  sodden  swarthiness  of  complexion,  a  filmy  dimness  of  eye, 
and  pallor  and  compression  ->f  lip,  There  were  two  other  traits. 


THE   MAN  OF  THE  CROWD.  419 

moreovei,  by  which  I  could  always  detect  them; — a  guarded 
lowness  of  tone  in  conversation,  and  a  more  than  ordinary  exten- 
sion of  the  thumb  in  a  direction  at  right  angles  with  the  fingers. 
— Very  often,  in  company  with  these  sharpers,  I  observed  an 
order  of  men  somewhat  different  in  habits,  but  still  birds  of  a 
kindred  leather.  They  may  be  defined  as  the  gentlemen  who 
live  by  their  wits.  They  seem  to  prey  upon  the  public  in  two 
battalions — that  of  the  dandies  and  that  of  the  military  men.  Of 
the  first  grade  the  leading  features  are  long  locks  and  smiles;  of 
the  second  frogged  coats  and  frowns. 

Descending  in  the  scale  of  what  is  termed  gentility,  I  found 
darker  and  deeper  themes  for  speculation.  I  saw  Jew  pedlars, 
with  hawk  eyes  flashing  from  countenances  whose  every  other 
feature  wore  only  an  expression  of  abject  humility  ;  sturdy  pro- 
fessional  street  beggars  scowling  upon  mendicants  of  a  better 
stamp,  whom  despair  alone  had  driven  forth  into  the  night  for 
charity ;  feeble  and  ghastly  invalids,  upon  whom  death  had 
placed  a  sure  hand,  and  who  sidled  and  tottered  through  the 
mob,  looking  every  one  beseechingly  in  the  face,  as  if  in  search 
of  some  chance  consolation,  some  lost  hope  j  modest  young  girls 
returning  from  long  and  late  labor  to  a  cheerless  home,  and 
shrinking  more  tearfully  than  indignantly  from  the  glances  of 
ruffians,  whose  direct  contact,  even,  could  not  be  avoided ;  wo- 
men  of  the  town  of  all  kinds  and  of  all  ages — the  unequivocal 
beauty  in  the  prime  of  her  womanhood,  putting  one  in  mind  of 
the  statue  in  Lucian,  with  the  surface  of  Parian  marble,  and  the 
interior  filled  with  filth — the  loathsome  and  utterly  lost  leper  in 
rags — the  wrinkled,  bejewelled  and  paint-begrimed  beldame,  ma- 
king a  last  elfbrt  at  youth — the  mere  child  of  immature  form,  yet, 
from  long  association,  an  adept  in  the  dreadful  coquetries  of  her 
trade,  and  burning  with  a  rabid  ambition  to  be  ranked  the  equal 
of  her  elders  in  vice  ;  drunkards  innumerable  and  indescribable- 
some  in  shreds  and  patches,  reeling,  inarticulate,  with  bruised 
visage  and  lack-lustre  eyes — some  in  whole  although  filthy 
garments,  with  a  slightly  unsteady  swagger,  thick  sensual  lips, 
and  hearty-looking  rubicund  faces — others  clothed  in  materials 
which  had  once  been  good,  and  which  even  now  were  scrupu- 
lously well  brushed — men  who  walked  with  a  more  than  natu- 


420  THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD. 

rally  firm  and  springy  step,  but  whose  countenances  were  fearful 
ly  pale,  whose  eyes  hideously  wild  and  red,  and  who  clutched 
with  quivering  fingers,  as  they  strode  through  the  crowd,  at  every 
object  which  came  within  their  reach ;  beside  these,  pie-men, 
porters,  coal-heavers,  sweeps;  organ-grinders,  monkey-exhibiters 
and  ballad  mongers,  those  who  vended  with  those  who  sang ; 
ragged  artizans  and  exhausted  laborers  of  every  description,  and 
all  full  of  a  noisy  and  inordinate  vivacity  which  jarred  discord- 
antly upoi  the  ear,  and  gave  an  aching  sensation  to  the  eye. 

As  the  night  deepened,  so  deepened  to  me  the  interest  of  the 
scene  ;  for  not  only  did  the  general  character  of  the  crowd  ma- 
terially  alter  (its  gentler  features  retiring  in  the  gradual  with- 
drawal of  the  more  orderly  portion  of  the  people,  and  its  harsher 
ones  coming  out  into  bolder  relief,  as  the  late  hour  brought  forth 
every  species  of  infamy  from  its  den,)  but  the  rays  of  the  gas- 
lamps,  feeble  at  first  in  their  struggle  with  the  dying  day,  had  now 
at  length  gained  ascendancy,  and  threw  over  eveiy  thing  a  fitful 
and  garish  lustre.  All  was  dark  yet  splendid — as  that  ebony  to 
which  has  been  likened  the  style  of  Tertullian. 

The  wild  effects  of  the  light  enchained  me  to  an  examination  of 
individual  faces;  and  although  the  rapidity  with  which  the  world 
of  light  flitted  before  the  window,  prevented  me  from  casting 
more  than  a  glance  upon  each  visage,  still  it  seemed  that,  in  my 
then  peculiar  mental  state,  I  could  frequently  read,  even  in  that 
brief  interval  of  a  glance,  the  history  of  long  years. 

With  my  brow  to  the  glass.  I  was  thus  occupied  in  scrutinizing 
the  mob,  when  suddenly  there  came  into  view  a  countenance 
(that  of  a  decrepid  old  man,  some  sixty-five  or  seventy  years  oi 
age,) — a  countenance  which  at  once  arrested  and  absorbed  my 
whole  attention,  on  account  of  the  absolute  idiosyncracy  of  its 
expression.  Any  thing  even  remotely  resembling  that  expression 
I  hud  never  seen  before.  I  well  remember  that  my  first  thought, 
upon  beholding  it,  was  that  Retzch,  had  he  viewed  it,  would  have 
greatly  preferred  it  to  his  own  pictural  incarnations  of  theiiend. 
As  I  endeavored,  during  the  brief  minute  of  my  original  survey, 
to  form  some  analysis  of  the  meaning  conveyed,  there  arose  con- 
fusedly and  paradoxically  within  my  mind,  the  ideas  of  vast,  men. 
tal  power,  of  caution,  of  penuriousness,  of  avarice  of  coolness, 


THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD.  421 

of  malice,  of  blood-thirstiness,  of  triumph,  of  merriment,  of  ex. 
cessive  terror,  of  intense — of  supreme  despair.  I  felt  singularly 
aroused,  startled,  Ihscinated.  "  How  wild  a  history,"  I  said  to 
myself,  "  is  written  within  that  bosom  !"  Then  came  a  craving 
desire  to  keep  the  man  in  view — to  know  more  of  him.  Hurri- 
edly putting  on  an  overcoat,  and  seizing  my  hat  and  cane,  1 
made  my  way  into  the  street,  and  pushed  through  the  crowd  in 
the  direction  which  I  had  seen  him  take ;  for  he  had  already  dis- 
appeared. With  some  little  difficulty  I  at  length  came  within 
sight  of  him,  approached,  and  followed  him  closely,  yet  cautious- 
ly, so  as  not  to  attract  his  attention. 

I  had  now  a  good  opportunity  of  examining  his  person.  He 
Avas  short  in  stature,  very  thin,  and  apparently  very  feeble.  His 
clolhes,  generally,  were  filthy  and  ragged ;  but  as  he  came,  now 
and  then,  within  the  strong  glare  of  a  lamp,  I  perceived  that  his 
linen,  although  dirty,  was  of  beautiful  texture  ;  and  my  vision  de- 
ceived me,  or,  through  a  rent  in  a  closely -buttoned  and  evidently 
second-handed  roquelaire  which  enveloped  him,  I  caught  a  glimpse 
both  of  a  diamond  and  of  a  dagger.  These  observations  height- 
ened my  curiosity,  and  I  resolved  to  follow  the  stranger  whither- 
soever he  should  go. 

It  was  now  fully  night-fall,  and  a  thick  humid  fog  hung  over 
the  city,  soon  ending  in  a  settled  and  heavy  rain.  This  change 
of  weather  had  an  odd  effect  upon  the  crowd,  the  whole  of  which 
was  at  once  put  into  new  commotion,  and  overshadowed  by  a 
world  of  umbrellas.  The  waver,  the  jostle,  and  the  hum  in- 
creased in  a  tenfold  degree.  For  my  own  part  I  did  not  much 
regard  the  rain — the  lurking  of  an  old  fever  in  my  system  ren- 
dering the  moisture  somewhat  too  dangerously  pleasant.  Tying 
a  handkerchief  about  my  mouth,  I  kept  on.  For  half  an  hour 
the  old  man  held  his  way  with  difficulty  along  the  great  thor- 
oughfare; and  I  here  walked  close  at  his  elbow  through  fear  of 
losing  sight  of  him.  Never  once  turning  his  head  to  look  bacK, 
he  did  not  observe  me.  By  and  bye  he  passed  into  a  cross 
street,  which,  although  densely  filled  with  people,  was  not  quite 
so  much  thronged  as  the  main  one  he  had  quitted.  Here  a 
change  in  his  demeanor  became  evident.  He  walked  more  slowly 
and  with  less  object  than  before — more  hesitatingly.  He  crossed 


422  THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD. 

and  le-crosseJ  the  way  repeatedly  without  apparent  aim  ;  and  the 
press  was  still  so  thick,  that,  at  every  such  movement,  I  was  obliged 
to  follow  him  closely.  The  street  was  a  narrow  and  long  one, 
and  his  course  lay  within  it  for  nearly  an  hour,  during  which  the 
passengers  had  gradually  diminished  to  about  that  number  which 
is  ordinarily  seen  at  noon  in  Broadway  near  the  park — so  vast  a 
difference  is  there  between  a  London  populace  and  that  of  tha 
most  frequented  American  city.  A  second  turn  brought  us  into 
a  square,  brilliantly  lighted,  and  overflowing  with  life.  The  old 
manner  of  the  stranger  re-appeared.  His  chin  fell  upon  his  breast, 
while  his  eyes  rolled  wildly  from  under  his  knit  brows,  in  every 
direction,  upon  those  who  hemmed  him  in.  He  urged  his  way 
steadily  and  perseveringly.  [  was  surprised,  however,  to  find, 
upon  his  having  made  the  circuit  of  the  square,  that  he  turned 
and  retraced  his  steps.  Still  more  was  I  astonished  to  see  him 
repeat  the  same  walk  several  times — once  nearly  detecting  me  as 
he  came  round  with  a  sudden  movement. 

In  this  exercise  he  spent  another  hour,  at  the  end  of  which  we 
met  with  far  less  interruption  from  passengers  than  at  first.  The 
rain  fell  fast ;  the  air  grew  cool ;  and  the  people  were  retiring  to 
their  homes.  With  a  gesture  of  impatience,  the  wanderer  passed 
into  a  by-street  comparatively  deserted.  Down  this,  some  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  long,  he  rushed  with  an  activity  I  could  not  have 
dreamed  of  seeing  in  one  so  aged,  and  which  put  me  to  much 
trouble  in  pursuit.  A  few  minutes  brought  us  to  a  large  and 
busy  bazaar,  with  the  localities  of  which  the  stranger  appeared 
well  acquainted,  and  where  his  original  demeanor  again  became 
apparent,  as  he  forced  his  way  to  and  fro,  without  aim,  among 
the  host  of  buyers  and  sellers. 

During  the  hour  and  a  half,  or  thereabouts,  which  we  passed  in 
this  place,  it  required  much  caution  on  my  part  to  keep  him  within 
reach  without  attracting  his  observation.  Luckily  I  wore  a  pair 
of  caoutchouc  over-shoes,  and  could  move  about  in  perfect  silence. 
At  no  moment  did  he  see  that  I  watched  him.  He  entered  shop 
after  shop,  priced  nothing,  spoke  no  word,  and  looked  at  all  ob- 
jects with  a  wild  and  vacant  stare.  I  was  now  utterly  amazed  at 
his  behavior,  and  firmly  resolved  that  we  should  not  part  until 
I  had  satisfied  myself  in  some  measure  respecting  him. 


THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD.  423 

A  loud-toned  clock  struck  eleven,  and  the  company  were  f:i*l 
deserting  the  bazaar.  A  shop-keeper,  in  putting  up  a  shutter, 
jostled  the  old  man,  and  at  the  instant  I  saw  a  strong  shudder 
come  over  his  frame.  He  hurried  into  the  street,  looked  anxiously 
aro'ind  him  for  an  instant,  and  then  ran  with  incredible  swiftness 
through  many  crooked  and  peopleless  lanes,  until  we  emerged 
cure  more  upon  the  great  thoroughfare  whence  we  had  started — • 

the  street  of  the  D Hotel.  It  no  longer  wore,  however, 

the  same  aspect.  It  was  still  brilliant  with  gas ;  but  the  rain 
fell  fiercely,  and  there  were  few  persons  to  be  seen.  The  stranger 
grew  pale.  He  walked  moodily  some  paces  up  the  once  popu- 
lous avenue,  then,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  turned  in  the  direction 
of  the  river,  and,  plunging  through  a  great  variety  of  devious 
ways,  came  out,  at  length,  in  view  of  one  of  the  principal  thea- 
tres. It  was  about  being  closed,  and  the  audience  were  throng- 
ing from  the  doors.  I  saw  the  old  man  gasp  as  if  for  breath 
while  he  threw  himself  amid  the  crowd  ;  but  I  thought  that  the 
intense  agony  of  his  countenance  had,  in  some  measure,  abated. 
His  head  again  fell  upon  his  breast;  he  appeared  as  I  had  seen 
him  at  first.  I  observed  that  he  now  took  the  course  in  which 
had  gone  the  greater  number  of  the  audience — but,  upon  the 
whole,  I  was  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  waywardness  of  his 
actions. 

As  he  proceeded,  the  company  grew  more  scattered,  and  his 
old  uneasiness  and  vacillation  were  resumed.  For  some  time  he 
followed  closely  a  party  of  some  ten  or  twelve  roisterers ;  but 
from  this  number  one  by  one  dropped  off,  until  three  only  remain  - 
ed  together,  in  a  narrow  and  gloomy  lane  little  frequented.  The 
stranger  paused,  and,  for  a  moment,  seemed  lost  in  thought ;  then, 
with  every  mark  of  agitation,  pursued  rapidly  a  route  which 
Drought  us  to  the  verge  of  the  city,  amid  regions  very  different 
from  tliose  we  had  hitherto  traversed.  It  was  the  most  noisome 
quarter  of  London,  where  everything  wore  the  worst  impress  of 
the  most  deplorable  poverty,  and  of  the  most  desperate  crime. 
By  the  dim  light  of  an  accidental  lamp,  tall,  antique,  worm-eaten, 
wooden  tenements  were  seen  tottering  to  their  fall,  in  directions 
so  many  and  capricious,  that  scarce  the  semblance  of  a  passage 
was  dscernible  between  them.  The  paving-stones  lay  at  ran- 


434  THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD. 

dom,  displaced  from  tlieir  beds  by  the  rankly-growing  grass. 
Horrible  filth  festered  in  the  dammed-up  gutters.  The  whole  at- 
mosphere teemed  with  desolation.  Yet,  as  we  proceeded,  the 
sounds  of  human  life  revived  by  sure  degrees,  and  at  length  large 
bands  of  the  most  abandoned  of  a  London  populace  were  seen 
reeling  to  and  fro.  The  spirits  of  the  old  man  again  flickered  up, 
as  a  lamp  which  is  near  its  death-hour.  Once  more  he  strode 
onward  with  elastic  tread.  Suddenly  a  corner  was  turned,  a 
blaze  of  light  burst  upon  our  sight,  and  we  stood  before  one  of  tho 
huge  suburban  temples  of  Intemperance — one  of  the  palaces  of 
the  fiend,  Gin. 

It  was  now  nearly  day-break ;  but  a  number  of  wretched  ine- 
briates still  pressed  in  and  out  of  the  flaunting  entrance.  With  a 
half  shriek  of  joy  the  old  man  forced  a  passage  within,  resumed 
at  once  his  original  bearing,  and  stalked  backward  and  forward, 
without  apparent  object,  among  the  throng.  He  had  not  been 
thus  long  occupied,  however,  before  a  rush  to  the  doors  gave  to- 
ken that  the  host  was  closing  them  for  the  night.  It  was  some- 
thing even  more  intense  than  despair  that  I  then  observed  upon 
the  countenance  of  the  singular  being  whom  I  had  watched  so 
pertinaciously.  Yet  he  did  not  hesitate  in  his  career,  but,  with  a 
mad  energy,  retraced  his  steps  at  once,  to  the  heart  of  the  mighty 
London.  Long  and  swiftly  he  fled,  while  I  followed  him  in  the 
Wildest  amazement,  resolute  not  to  abandon  a  scrutiny  in  which  I 
now  felt  an  interest  all-absorbing.  The  sun  arose  while  we  pro- 
ceeded, and,  when  we  had  once  again  reached  that  most  thronged 
mart  of  the  populous  town,  the  street  of  the  D Hote'i,  it  pre- 
sented an  appearance  of  human  bustle  and  activity  scarcely  infe- 
rior to  what  I  had  seen  on  the  evening  before.  And  here,  long, 
amid  the  momently  increasing  confusion,  did  I  persist  in  my  pur- 
suit of  the  stranger.  But,  as  usual,  he  walked  to  and  fro,  and 
during  the  day  did  not  pass  from  out  the  turmoil  of  that  street. 
And,  as  the  shades  of  the  second  evening  came  on,  I  grew  wea- 
ried unto  death,  and,  stopping  fully  in  front  of  the  wanderer, 
gazed  at  him  steadfastly  in  the  face.  He  noticed  me  not,  but  re- 
sumed his  solemn  walk,  while  I,  ceasing  to  follow,  remained  ab- 
sorbed in  contemplation.  "  This  old  man,"  I  said  at  length,  "  is 
the  type  and  the  genius  of  deep  crime.  Ho  refuses  to  be  alone. 


THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD.  425 

Etc  is  the  man  of  the  crowd.  It  will  be  in  vain  to  follow  ;  for  I 
shall  learn  no  more  of  him,  nor  of  his  deeds.  The  worst  heart  of 
the  world  is  a  grosser  book  than  the  *  llortulus  Animsft,'*  and 
perhaps  it  is  but  one  of  the  great  mercies  of  God  that  '  er  lasst 
tick  niclit  lesen.'  " 

*  The  "  Hortulus  Animce  cum  Oratiunculis  Allguibus  Super  additif?  of 


SEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUB  HEAD 

A  TALE  WITH  A  MORAL. 


wCoN  tal  que  las  costumbres  de  un  autor"  says  Don  Thomas  De 
Las  Torres,  in  the  preface  to  his  "  Amatory  Poems"  "  sean  puras 
y  castas,  importo  muy  poco  que  no  sean  igualmente  severas  sus 
olras" — meaning,  in  plain  English,  that,  provided  the  morals  of  an 
author  are  pure,  personally,  it  signifies  nothing  what  are  the  morals 
of  his  books.  We  presume  that  Don  Thomas  is  now  in  Purgatory 
for  the  assertion.  It  would  be  a  clever  thing,  too,  in  the  way  of 
poetical  justice,  to  keep  him  there  until  his  "  Amatory  Poems"  get 
out  of  print,  or  are  laid  definitely  upon  the  shelf  through  lack  of 
readers.  Every  fiction  should  have  a  moral ;  and,  what  is  more 
to  the  purpose,  the  critics  have  discovered  that  every  fiction  has. 
Philip  Melancthon,  some  time  ago,  wrote  a  commentary  upon  the 
"  Batrachomyomachia"  and  proved  that  the  poet's  object  was  to 
excite  a  distaste  for  sedition.  Pierre  La  Seine,  going  a  step 
farther,  shows  that  the  intention  was  to  recommend  to  young  men 
t<  mperance  in  eating  and  drinking.  Just  so,  too,  Jacobus  Hugo 
lias  satisfied  himself  that,  by  Euenis,  Homer  meant  to  insinuate 
John  Calvin;  by  Aniinous,  Martin  Luther;  by  the  Lotophagi, 
Protestants  in  general;  and,  by  the  Harpies,  the  Dutch.  Our 
more  modern  Scholiasts  are  equally  acute.  These  fellows  demon- 
strate a  hidden  meaning  in  "  The  Antediluvians,"  a  parable  in 
"  Powhatan,"  new  views  in  "  Cock  Robin,"  and  transcendentalism 
in  "Hop  O'  My  Thumb.*  In  short,  it  has  been  shown  that  no  man 
can  sit  down  to  write  without  «.  very  profound  design.  Thus  to 


NEVER  BET  THE  LEVIL  YOUR  HEAD.  4£7 

authors  in  general  much  trouble  is  spared.  A  novelist,  for  example, 
need  have  no  care  of  his  moral.  It  is  there — that  is  to  say,  it  is 
somewhere — and  the  moral  and  the  critics  can  take  care  jf  them- 
selves. When  the  proper  time  arrives,  all  that  the  gentleman 
intended,  and  all  that  he  did  not  intend,  will  be  brought  to  light, 
in  the  "Dial,"  or  the  "Down-Easter,"  together  with  all  '.hat  he 
ought  to  have  intended,  and  the  rest  that  he  clearly  meant  to 
intend:—  ?o  that  it  will  all  come  very  straight  in  the  end. 

There  is  no  just  ground,  therefore,  for  the  charge  brought 
against  me  by  certain  ignoramuses — that  I  have  never  written  a 
moral  tale,  or,  in  more  precise  words,  a  tale  with  a  moral.  They 
are  not  the  critics  predestined  to  bring  me  out,  and  develop  my 
morals : — that  is  the  secret.  By  and  by  the  "  North  American 
Quarterly  Ilumdrum"  will  make  them  ashamed  of  their  stupidity. 
In  the  meantime,  by  way  of  staying  execution — by  way  of  miti- 
gating the  accusations  against  me — I  offer  the  sad  history  append- 
ed ; — a  history  about  whose  obvious  moral  there  can  be  no  ques- 
tion whatever,  since  he  who  runs  may  read  it  in  the  large  capitals 
which  form  the  title  of  the  tale.  I  should  have  credit  for  this 
arrangement — a  far  wiser  one  than  that  of  La  Fontaine  and  others, 
who  reserve  the  impression  to  be  conveyed  until  the  last  moment, 
and  thus  sneak  it  in  at  the  fag  end  of  their  fables. 

Defuncti  injurid  ne  afficiantur  was  a  law  of  the  twelve  tables, 
and  De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum  is  an  excellent  injunction — even  if 
the  dead  in  question  be  nothing  but  dead  small  beer.  It  is  not 
my  design,  therefore,  to  vituperate  my  deceased  friend,  Toby  Dam- 
mit. He  was  a  sad  dog,  it  is  true,  and  a  dog's  death  it  was  that 
he  died ;  but  he  himself  was  not  to  blame  for  his  vices.  They 
grew  out  of  a  personal  defect  in  his  mother.  She  did  her  best  in 
the  way  of  flogging  him  while  an  infant — for  duties  to  her  well-reg- 
ulated mind  were  always  pleasures,  and  babies,  like  tough  steaks, 
or  the  modern  Greek  olive  trees,  are  invariably  the  better  for  beat- 
ing— but,  poor  woman !  she  had  the  misfortune  to  be  left-handed, 
and  a  child  flogged  left-handedly  had  better  be  left  unflogged. 
The  world  revolves  from  r;ght  to  left.  It  will  not  do  to  whip  a 
baby  from  left  to  right.  If  each  blow  in  the  proper  direction 
drives  an  evil  propensity  out,  it  follows  that  every  thump  in  an 
opposite  one  knocks  its  quota  of  wickedness  in.  I  was  often  pre» 


428  NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HEAD. 

ent  at  Toby's  chastisements,  and,  even  by  the  way  in  which  he 
kicked,  I  could  perceive  that  he  was  getting  worse  and  worse 
every  day.  At  last  I  saw,  through  the  tears  in  my  eyes,  that 
there  was  no  hope  of  the  villain  at  all,  and  one  day  when  he  hau 
been  cuffed  until  he  grew  so  black  in  the  face  that  one  might  havo 
mistaken  him  for  a  little  African,  and  no  effect  had  been  produced 
beyond  that  of  making  him  wriggle  himself  into  a  fit,  I  could  stand 
it  no  longer,  but  went  down  upon  my  knees  forthwith,  and,  uplift- 
ing my  voice,  made  prophecy  of  his  ruin. 

The  fact  is  that  his  precocity  in  vice  was  awful.  At  five  months 
of  age  he  used  to  got  into  such  passions  that  he  was  unable  to 
articulate.  At  six  months,  I  caught  him  knawing  a  pack  of  cards. 
At  seven  months  he  was  in  the  constant  habit  of  catching  and 
kissing  the  female  babies.  At  eight  months  he  peremptorily 
refused  to  put  his  signature  to  the  Temperance  pledge.  Thus  he 
went  on  increasing  in  iniquity,  month  after  month,  until,  at  the 
close  of  the  first  year,  he  not  only  insisted  upon  wearing  mous- 
taches, but  had  contracted  a  propensity  for  cursing  and  swearing, 
and  for  backing  his  assertions  by  bets. 

Through  this  latter  most  ungentlemanly  practice,  the  ruin 
which  I  had  predicted  to  Toby  Dammit  overtook  him  at  last. 
The  fashion  had  "  grown  with  his  growth  and  strengthened  with  . 
his  strength,"  so  thai,  when  he  came  to  be  a  man,  he  could  scarcely 
utter  a  sentence  without  interlarding  it  with  a  proposition  to  gam- 
ble. Not  that  he  actually  laid  wagers — no.  I  will  do  my  friend 
the  justice  to  say  that  he  would  as  soon  have  laid  eggs.  With 
him  the  thing  was  a  mere  formula — nothing  more.  His  expres- 
sions on  this  head  had  no  meaning  attached  to  them  whatever. 
They  were  simple  if  not  altogether  innocent  expletives — imagina- 
tive phrases  wherewith  to  round  off  a  sentence.  When  he  said 
'  I'll  bet  you  so  and  so,"  nobody  ever  thought  of  taking  him  up ; 
but  still  I  could  not  help  thinking  it  my  duty  to  put  him  down. 
The  habit  was  an  immoral  one,  and  so  I  told  him.  It  was  a 
vulgar  one — this  1  begged  him  to  believe.  It  was  discounte- 
nanced by  society — here  I  said  nothing  but  the  truth.  It  was 
forbidden  by  act  of  Congress — here  I  had  not  the  slightest  inten- 
tion of  telling  a  lie.  I  remonstrated — but  to  no  purpose.  I  dem- 
onstrated— in  vain.  I  entreated — he  smiled.  I  implored — he 


NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HE/.D.  429 

laughed.  I  preached — he  sneered.  I  threatened — he  swore.  I 
kicked  him — he  called  for  the  police.  I  pulled  his  nose — he  blew 
it,  and  offered  to  bet  the  Devil  his  head  that  I  would  uot  venture 
to  try  that  experiment  again. 

Poverty  was  another  vice  which  the  peculiar  physical  deficiency 
ol"  i)amrnit's  mother  had  entailed  upon  her  son.  He  was  detesta- 
bly poor ;  and  this  was  the  reason,  no  doubt,  that  his  expletive 
expressions  about  betting,  seldom  took  a  pecuniary  turn.  I  will 
not  be  bound  to  say  that  I  ever  heard  him  make  use  of  such  a 
figure  of  speech  as  "I'll  bet  you  a  dollar."  It  was  usually  "I'll  bet 
you  what  you  please,"  or  I'll  bet  you  what  you  dare,"  or  "  I'll  bet 
you  a  trifle,"  or  else,  more  significantly  still,  "Til  bet  the  Devil  my 
head." 

This  latter  form  seemed  to  please  him  best : — perhaps  because 
it  involved  the  leasl  risk ;  for  Dammit  had  become  excessively 
parsimonious.  Had  any  one  taken  him  up,  his  head  was  small, 
and  thus  his  loss  would  have  been  small  too.  But  these  are  my 
own  reflections,  and  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  I  am  right  in 
attributing  them  to  him.  At  all  events  the  phrase  in  question 
grew  daily  in  favor,  notwithstanding  the  gross  impropriety  of  a 
man  betting  his  brains  like  bank-notes : — but  this  was  a  point 
which  my  friend's  perversity  of  disposition  would  not  permit  him 
rjQ  comprehend.  In  the  end,  he  abandoned  all  other  forms  of 
svager,  and  gave  himself  up  to  " Pll  bet  the  Devil  my  head"  with 
i  pertinacity  and  exclusiveness  of  devotion  that  displeased  not 
iess  than  it  surprised  me.  I  am  always  displeased  by  circumstan- 
ces for  which  I  cannot  account.  Mysteries  force  a  man  to  think, 
and  so  injure  his  health.  The  truth  is,  there  was  something  in  the 
air  with  which  Mr.  Dammit  was  wont  to  give  utterance  to  his 
offensive  expression — something  in  his  manner  of  enunciation — • 
which  at  first  interested,  and  afterwards  made  me  very  uneasy — 
something  which,  for  want  of  a  more  definite  term  at  present,  1 
must  be  permitted  to  call  queer  •  but  which  Mr.  Coleridge  would 
have  called  mystical,  Mr.  Kant  pantheistical,  Mr.  Carlyle  twistical, 
and  Mr.  Emerson  hyperquizzitistical.  I  began  not  to  like  it  at  all. 
Mr.  Dammit's  soul  was  in  a  perilous  state.  I  resolved  to  bring  all 
my  eloquence  into  play  to  save  it.  I  vowed  to  serve  him  as  St. 
Patrick,  in  the  Irish  chronicle,  is  said  to  have  served  the  toad,  that 


430  NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  TOUR  HEAD. 

is  to  say,  "  awaken  him  to  a  sense  of  his  situation."  I  addressed 
myself  to  the  task  forthwith.  Once  more  I  betook  myself  to 
remonstrance.  Again  I  collected  my  energies  for  a  final  attempt 
at  expostulation. 

When  I  had  made  an  end  of  my  lecture,  Mr.  Dammit  indulged 
himself  in  some  very  equivocal  behavior.  For  some  moments  he 
remained  silent,  merely  looking  me  inquisitively  in  the  face.  But 
presently  he  threw  his  head  to  one  side,  and  elevated  his  eye- 
brows to  great  extent.  Then  he  spread  out  the  palms  of  his 
hands  and  shrugged  up  his  shoulders.  Then  he  winked  with  the 
right  eye.  Then  he  repeated  the  operation  with  the  left.  Then 
he  shut  them  both  up  very  tight.  Then  he  opened  them  both  so 
very  wide  that  I  became  seriously  alarmed  for  the  consequences. 
Then,  applying  his  thumb  to  his  nose,  he  thought  proper  to  make 
an  indescribable  movement  with  the  rest  of  his  fingers.  Finally, 
setting  his  arms  a-kimbo,  he  condescended  to  reply. 

I  can  call  to  mind  only  the  heads  of  his  discourse.  He  would 
be  obliged  to  me  if  I  would  hold  my  tongue.  He  wished  none 
of  my  advice.  He  despised  all  my  insinuations.  He  was  old 
enough  to  take  care  of  himself.  Did  I  still  think  him  baby  Dam- 
mit ?  Did  I  mean  to  say  anything  against  his  character  ?  Did  I 
intend  to  insult  him  ?  Was  I  a  fool  ?  Was  my  maternal  parent 
aware,  in  a  word,  of  my  absence  from  the  domiciliary  residence! 
He  would  put  this  latter  question  to  me  as  to  a  man  of  veracity, 
and  he  would  bind  himself  to  abide  by  my  reply.  Once  more  he 
would  demand  explicitly  if  my  mother  knew  that  I  was  out.  My 
confusion,  he  said,  betrayed  me,  and  he  would  be  willing  to  bet 
the  Devil  his  head  that  she  did  not. 

Mr.  Dammit  did  not  pause  for  my  rejoinder.  Turning  upon 
his  heel,  he  left  my  presence  with  undignified,  precipitation.  It 
was  well  for  him  that  he  did  so.  My  feelings  had  been  wounded. 
Even  my  anger  had  been  aroused.  For  once  I  would  have  taken 
him  up  upon  his  insulting  wager.  I  would  have  won  for  tho 
Arch-Enemy  Mr.  Dammit's  little  head — for  the  fact  is,  my  mamma 
was  very  well  aware  of  my  merely  temporary  absence  from  home. 

B'lt  Khoda  she/a  midehed — Heaven  gives  relief — as  the  Mus- 
selmen  say  when  you  tread  upon  their  toes.  It  was  in  pursuance 
of  my  duty  that  I  had  been  insulted,  an  I  I  bore  the  insuit  lita 


NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL   YOUR  HEAD.  431 

man.  It  now  seemed  to  me,  howevei  that  I  had  done  all  that 
could  be  required  of  rue,  in  the  case  of  this  miserable  individual, 
and  I  resolved  to  trouble  him  no  longer  with  my  counsel,  but  to 
leave  him  to  his  conscience  and  himself  But  although  I  forebore 
to  intrude  with  my  advice,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  give  up  his 
society  altogether.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  humor  some  of  his 
less  reprehensible  propensities;  and  there  were  times  when  I  found 
myself  lauding  his  wicked  jokes,  as  epicures  do  mustard,  with 
tears  in  my  eyes : — so  profoundly  did  it  grieve  me  to  hear  his 
evil  talk. 

One  tine  day,  having  strolled  out  together,  arm  in  arm,  our 
route  led  us  in  the  direction  of  a  river.  There  was  a  bridge,  and 
we  resolved  to  cross  it.  It  was  roofed  over,  by  way  of  protection 
from  the  weather,  and  the  arch-way,  having  but  few  windows,  was 
thus  very  uncomfortably  dark.  As  we  entered  the  passage,  the 
contrast  between  the  external  glare,  and  the  interior  gloom,  struck 
heavily  upon  my  spirits.  Not  so  upon  those  of  the  unhappy 
Dammit,  who  offered  to  bet  the  Devil  his  head  that  I  was  hipped. 
He  seemed  to  be  in  an  unusual  good  humor.  He  was  excessively 
lively — so  much  so  that  I  entertained  I  know  not  what  of  uneasy 
suspicion.  It  is  not  impossible  that  he  was  affected  with  the 
transcendentals.  I  am  not  well  enough  versed,  however,  in  the 
diagnosis  of  this  disease  to  speak  with  decision  upon  the  point ; 
and  unhappily  there  wei-e  none  of  my  friends  of  the  "Dial"  pres- 
ent. I  suggest  the  idea,  nevertheless,  because  of  a  certain  species  of 
austere  Merry- Andrewism  which  seemed  to  beset  my  poor  friend, 
and  caused  him  to  make  quite  a  Tom-Fool  of  himself.  Nothing 
would  serve  him  but  wriggling  and  skipping  about  under  and  over 
everything  that  came  in  his  way ;  now  shouting  out,  and  now 
lisping  out,  all  manner  of  odd  little  and  big  words,  yet  preserving 
the  gravest  face  in  the  world  all  the  time.  I  really  could  not 
make  up  my  mind  whether  to  kick  or  to  pity  him.  At  length, 
having  passed  nearly  across  the  bridge,  we  approached  the  termi- 
nation of  the  foot  way,  when  our  progress  was  impeded  by  a  turn- 
stile of  some  height.  Through  this  I  made  my  way  quietly, 
pushing  it  around  as  usual.  But  this  turn  would  not  serve  the 
turn  of  Mr.  Dammit.  He  insisted  upon  leaping  the  stile,  and  said 
he  Cuuld  cut  a  pigeon-wing  over  it  in  the  air.  Now  this,  conscien- 


432  NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HEAD. 

tiously  speaking,  I  did  not  think  he  could  do.  The  best  pigeon- 
winger  over  all  kinds  of  style,  was  my  friend  Mr.  Carlyle,  and  as 
I  knew  he  could  not  do  it,  I  would  not  believe  that  it  could  be 
done  by  Toby  Dammit.  I  therefore  told  him,  in  so  many  words, 
that  he  was  a  braggadocio,  and  could  not  do  what  he  said.  For 
this,  I  had  reason  to  be  sorry  afterwards ; — for  he  straightway 
offered  to  bet  the  Devil  his  head  that  he  could. 

I  was  about  to  reply,  notwithstanding  my  previous  resolutions, 
with  some  remonstrance  against  his  impiety,  when  I  heard,  close 
at  my  elbow,  a  slight  cough,  which  sounded  very  much  like  the 
ejaculation  "  ahem  /"  I  started,  and  looked  about  me  in  surprise. 
My  glance  at  length  fell  into  a  nook  of  the  frame-work  of  the 
bridge,  and  upon  the  figure  of  a  little  lame  old  gentleman  of  ven- 
erable aspect.  Nothing  could  be  more  reverend  than  his  whole 
appearance  ;  for,  he  not  only  had  on  a  full  suit  of  black,  but  his 
shirt  was  perfectly  clean  and  the  collar  turned  very  neatly  down 
over  a  white  cravat,  while  his  hair  was  parted  in  front  like  a  girl's. 
His  hands  were  clasped  pensively  together  over  his  stomach,  and 
his  two  eyes  were  carefully  rolled  up  into  the  top  of  his  head. 

Upon  observing  him  more  closely,  I  perceived  that  he  wore  a 
black  silk  apron  over  his  small-clothes ;  and  this  was  a  thing 
which  I  thought  very  odd.  Before  I  had  time  to  make  any  re- 
mark, however,  upon  so  singular  a  circumstance,  he  interrupted 
me  with  a  second  "  ahem  /" 

To  this  observation  I  was  not  immediately  prepared  to  reply. 
The  fact,  is,  remarks  of  this  laconic  nature  are  nearly  unanswerable, 
I  have  known  a  Quarterly  Review  non-plused  by  the  word 
"  Fudge  /"  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say,  therefore,  that  I  turned  to 
Mr.  Dammit  for  assistance. 

"  Dammit,"  said  I,  "  what  are  you  about  ?  don't  you  hear  ? — 
the  gentleman  says  '  ahem  /' "  I  looked  sternly  at  my  friend 
while  I  thus  addressed  him  ;  for  to  say  the  truth,  I  felt  particularly 
puzzled,  and  when  a  man  is  particularly  puzzled  he  must  knit  his 
brows  and  look  savage,  or  else  he  is  pretty  sure  to  look  like  a  fool. 

"  Dammit,"  observed  I—  although  this  sounded  very  much  liko 
an  oath,  than  which  nothing  was  farther  from  my  thoughts — 
u  Dammit,"  I  suggested — "  the  gentleman  says  '  ahem  /'  " 

1  do  not  attempt  to  defend  my  remark  on  the  score  of  profan 


NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HEAD.  433 

;lity  ;  I  did  not  think  it  profound  myself;  but  I  have  noticed  that 
the  eflect  of  our  speeches  is  not  always  proportionate  with  their 
importance  in  our  own  eyes  ;  and  if  I  had  shot  Mr.  D.  through 
and  through  with  a  Paixhan  bomb,  or  knocked  him  in  the  head 
with  the  "Poets  and  Poetry  of  America,"  he  could  hardly  have  been 
more  discomfited  than  when  I  addressed  him  with  those  simple 
words — "  Dammit,  what  are  you  about  ? — don't  you  hear  ? — the 
gentleman  says  '  ahem  /'  " 

"  You  don't  say  so  ?"  gasped  he  at  length,  after  turning  more 
colors  than  a  pirate  runs  up,  one  after  the  other,  when  chased  by 
a  man-of-war.  "  Are  you  quite  sure  he  said  that  ?  Well,  at  all 
events  I  am  in  for  it  now,  and  may  as  well  put  a  bold  face  upon 
the  matter.  Here  goes,  then — ahem  /" 

At  this  the  little  old  gentleman  seemed  pleased — God  only 
knows  why.  He  left  his  station  at  the  nook  of  the  bridge,  limped 
forward  with  a  gracious  air,  took  Dammit  by  the  hand  and  shook 
it  cordially,  looking  all  the  while  straight  up  in  his  face  with  an 
air  of  the  most  unadulterated  benignity  which  it  is  possible  for  the 
mind  of  man  to  imagine. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  you  will  win  it,  Dammit,"  said  he,  with  the 
frankest  of  all  smiles,  "  but  we  are  obliged  to  have  a  trial  you 
know,  for  the  sake  of  mere  form." 

"  Ahem !"  replied  my  friend,  taking  off  his  coat  with  a  deep 
fcigh,  tying  a  pocket-handkerchief  around  his  waist,  and  producing 
an  unaccountable  alteratioVi  in  his  countenance  by  twisting  up  his 
eyes,  and  bringing  down  the  corners  of  his  mouth — "  ahem  !" 
And  "  ahem,"  said  he  again,  after  a  pause  ;  and  not  another  word 
more  than  "  ahem  !"  did  E  ever  know  him  to  say  after  that. 
"  Aha !"  thought  I,  without  expressing  myself  aloud — "  this  is 
quite  a  remarkable  silence  on  the  part  of  Toby  Dammit,  and  is 
no  doubt  a  consequence  of  his  verbosity  upon  a  previous  occasion. 
One  extreme  induces  another.  I  wonder  if  he  has  forgotten  the 
many  unanswerable  questions  which  he  propounded  to  me  so 
fluently  on  the  day  when  I  gave  him  my  last  lecture  ?  At  all 
events,  he  is  cured  of  the  transcendental*. " 

"  Ahem  !"  here  replied  Toby,  just  as  if  he  had  been  reading 
try  thoughts,  and  looking  like  a  very  old  sheep  in  a  reverie. 

The  old  gentleman  now  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  led  him  more 


434  NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOU! I  HEAD. 

into  the  shade  of  the  bridge — a  few  pnces  back  fiom  the  turnstila 
"  My  good  feliOw,"  said  he,  "  I  make  it  a  point  of  conscience  to 
allow  you  this  much  run.  Wait  here,  till  I  take  my  place  by  the 
stile,  so  that  I  may  see  whether  you  go  over  it  handsomely,  and 
transcendentally,  and  don't  omit  any  nourishes  of  the  pio-eon-wing. 
A  mere  form,  you  know.  I  will  say  '  one,  two,  three,  and  away.' 
Mind  you  start  at  the  word  '  away.'  "  Here  he  took  his  position 
by  the  stile,  paused  a  moment  as  if  in  profound  reflection,  then 
looked  up  and,  I  thought,  smiled  very  slightly,  then  tightened  the 
strings  of  his  apron,  then  took  a  long  look  at  Dammit,  and  finally 
gave  the  word  as  agreed  upon — 

One — two — three — and  away  I 

Punctually  at  the  word  "away,"  my  poor  friend  set  off  in  a 
strung  gallop.  The  stile  was  not  very  high,  like  Mr.  Lord's — nor 
yet  very  low,  like  that  of  Mr.  Lord's  reviewers,  but'upon  the  whole 
I  made  sure  that  he  would  clear  it.  Arid  then  what  if  he  did 
not? — ah,  that  was  the  question — what  if  he  did  not?  "  What 
right,"  said  I,  "had  the  old  gentleman  to  make  any  other  gentle- 
man jump  ?  The  little  old  dot-and-carry-one  !  who  is  he  ?  If  he 
asks  me  to  jump,  I  won't  do  it,  that's  flat,  and  I  don't  care  who 
the  devil  he  is."  The  bridge,  as  I  say,  was  arched  and  covered 
in,  in  a  very  ridiculous  manner,  and  there  was  a  most  uncomfort- 
able echo  about  it  at  all  times — an  echo  which  I  never  before  so 
particularly  observed  as  when  I  uttered  the  four  last  words  of  my 
remark. 

But  what  I  said,  or  what  I  thought,  or  what  I  heard,  occupied 
only  an  instant.  In  less  than  five  seconds  from  his  starting,  my 
poor  Toby  had  taken  the  leap.  I  saw  him  run  nimbly,  and  spring 
grandly  from  the  floor  of  the  bridge,  cutting  the  most  awful  flour- 
ishes with  his  legs  as  he  went  up.  I  saw  him  high  in  the  air, 
pigeon-winging  it  to  admiration  just  over  the  top  of  the  stile  ;  and 
of  course  I  thought  it  an  unusually  singular  thing  that  he  did  not 
continue  to  go  over.  But  the  whole  leap  was  the  affair  of  a 
moment,  and,  before  I  had  a  chance  to  make  any  profound  reflec- 
tions, down  came  Mr.  Dammit  on  the  flat  of  Irs  back,  on  the  same 
side  of  the  stile  from  which  he  had  started.  At  the  same  instant 


NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HEAD.  435 

1  saw  fche  old  gentleman  limping  off  at  the  top  of  his  speed, having 
caught  and  wrapped  up  in  his  apron  something  that  fell  heavily 
into  it  from  the  darkness  of  the  arch  just  over  the  turnstile.  -  At 
all  this  I  was  much  astonished  ;  but  I  had  no  leisure  to  think,  for 
Mr.  Dammit  lay  particularly  still,  and  I  concluded  that  his  feelings 
had  been  hurt,  and  that  he  stood  in  need  of  my  assistance.  I 
hurried  up  to  him  and  found  that  he  had  received  what  might  be 
termed  a  serious  injury.  The  truth  is,  he  had  been  deprived  of 
his  head,  which  after  a  close  search  I  could  not  find  anywhere  ;— 
BO  I  determined  to  take  him  home,  and  send  fcr  the  b/wioeopa- 
thists.  In  the  meantime  a  thought  struck  me,  and  I  threw  open 
an  adjacent  window  of  the  bridge  ;  when  the  sad  truth  flashed 
upon  me  at  once.  About  five  feet  just  above  the  top  of  the  turn- 
stile, and  crossing  the  arch  of  the  foot-path  so  as  to  constitute  a 
brace,  there  extended  a  flat  iron  bar,  lying  with  its  breadth  hori- 
zontally, and  forming  one  of  a  series  that  served  to  strengthen  the 
structure  throughout  its  extent.  With  the  edge  of  this  brace  it 
appeared  evident  that  the  neck  of  my  unfortunate  friend  had  come 
precisely  in  contact. 

He  did  not  long  survive  his  terrible  loss.  The  homceopathiste 
did  not  give  him  little  enough  physic,  and  what  little  they  did 
give  him  he  hesitated  to  take.  So  in  the  end  he  grew  worse,  and 
at  length  died,  a  lession  to  all  riotous  livers.  I  bedewed  his  grave 
with  my  tears,  worked  a  bar  sinister  on  his  family  escutcheon,  and, 
for  the  general  expenses  of  his  funeral,  sent  in  my  very  moderate 
bill  to  the  transcendentalists.  The  scoundrels  refused  to  pay  it,  so 
I  had  Mr,  Dammit  dug  up  at  once,  and  sold  him  for  dog's  meat 


"THOU  ART  THE  MAN," 


I  WILL  now  play  the  QEdipus  to  the  Rattleborough  enigma. 
I  will  expound  to  you — as  I  alone  can — the  secret  of  the  enginery 
that  effected  the  Rattleborough  miracle — the  one,  the  true,  the 
admitted, .  the  undisputed,  the  indisputable  miracle,  which  put  a 
definite  end  to  infidelity  among  the  Rattleburghers,  and  converted 
to  the  orthodoxy  of  the  grandames  all  Jthe  carnal-minded  who 
had  ventured  to  be  skeptical  before. 

This  event — which  I  should  be  sorry  to  discuss  in  a  tone  of  un- 
suitable levity — occurred  in  the  summer  of  18 — .  Mr.  Barnabas 
Shuttleworthy — one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  respectable  citizens 
of  the  borough — had  been  missing  for  several  days  under  circum- 
stances which  gave  rise  to  suspicion  of  foul  play.  Mr.  Shuttle- 
worthy  had  set  out  from  Rattleborough  very  early  one  Saturday 
morning,  on  horseback,  with  the  avowed  intention  of  proceeding 

to  the  city -of ,  about  fifteen  miles  distant,  and  of  returning 

the  nio;ht  of  the  same  day.  Two  hours  after  his  departure,  how- 
ever, his  horse  returned  without  him,  and  without  the  saddle-bags 
which  had  been  strapped  on  his  back  it  starting.  The  animal 
was  wounded,  too,  and  covered  with  mu.l.  These  circumstances 
naturally  gave  rise  to  much  alarm  among  the  friends  of  the  miss- 
ing man ;  and  when  it  was  found,  on  Sunday  morning,  that  he 
had  not  ye*  made  his  appearance,  the  whole  borough  arose  en 
masse  to  go  and  look  for  his  body. 

The  foremost  and  most  energetic  in  instituting  this  search,  was 
the  bosom  friend  of  Mr.  Shuttleworthy — a  Mr.  Charles  Goodfellow 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  437 

OT,  a:;  lie  was  universally  called,  "  Charley  Goodfellow,"  or  "  Old 
Charley  Goodfellow."  Now,  whether  it  is  a  rcm-vellous  coinci- 
dence, or  whether  it  is  that  the  name  itself  has  an  imperceptible 
effect  upon  the  character,  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  ascertain ; 
but  the  fact  is  unquestionable,  that  there  never  yet  was  any  per- 
son named  Charles  who  was  not  an  open,  manly,  honest,  good- 
natured,  and  frank-hearted  fellow,  with  a  rich,  clear  voice,  that 
did  you  good  to  hear  it,  and  an  eye  that  looked  you  always 
straight  in  the  face,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  have  a  clear  conscience 
myself;  am  afraid  of  no  man,  and  am  altogether  above  doing  a 
mean  action."  And  thus  all  the  hearty,  careless,  "  walking  gen- 
tlemen" of  the  stage  are  very  certain  to  be  called  Charles. 

Now,  "  Old  Charley  Goodfellow,"  although  he  had  been  in 
Rattleborough  not  longer  than  six  months  or  thereabouts,  and 
although  nobody  knew  anything  about  him  before  he  came  to  set- 
tle in  the  neighborhood,  had  experienced  no  difficulty  in  the  world 
in  making  the  acquaintance  of  all  the  respectable  people  in  the 
borough.  Not  a  man  of  them  but  would  have  taken  his  bare  word 
for  a  thousand  at  any  moment ;  and  as  for  the  women,  there  is 
no  saying  what  they  would  not  have  done  to  oblige  him.  And 
all  this  came  of  his  having  been  christened  Charles,  and  of  his 
possessing,  in  consequence,  that  ingenuous  face  which  is  prover- 
bially the  very  "  best  letter  of  recommendation." 

I  have  already  said,  that  Mr.  Shuttleworthy  was  one  of  the  most 
respectable,  and,  undoubtedly,  he  was  the  most  wealthy  man  in 
Rattleborough,  while  "Old  Charley  Goodfellow"  was  upon  as 
intimate  terms  with  him  as  if  he  had  been  his  own  brother.  The 
two  old  gentlemen  were  next-door  neighbors,  and,  although  Mr. 
Shuttleworthy  seldom,  if  ever,  visited  "  Old  Charley,"  and  never 
was  known  to  take  a  meal  in  his  house,  still  this  did  not  prevent 
the  two  friends  from  being  exceedingly  intimate,  as  I  have  just 
observed;  for  "Old  Charley"  never  let  a  day  pass  without  step- 
ing  in  three  or  four  times  to  see  how  his  neighbor  came  on,  and 
very  often  he  would  stay  to  breakfast  or  tea.  and  almost  always 
to  dinner  ;  and  then  the  amount,  of  wine  that  was  made  way  with 
by  the  two  cronies  at  a  sitting,  it  would  really  be  a  difficult  thing 
to  ascertain.  Old  Charley's  favorite  beverage  was  Chateau  Afar- 
and  it  appeared  to  do  Mr.  Shuttl. -worthy's  heart  good  to  see 


438  THOU  ART  THE  MAN. 

the  old  fellow  swallow  it,  as  he  did,  quart  after  quart;  so  that, 
one  day,  when  the  wine  was  in  and  the  wit,  as  a  natural  conse- 
quence, somewhat  out,  he  said  to  his  crony,  as  ho  slapped  him 
upon  the  back — "  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Old  Charluy.  you  are,  by 
all  odds,  the  heartiest  old  fellow'  I  ever  came  across  in  all  my  born 
days ;  and,  since  you  love  to  guzzle  the  wine  at  that  fashion,  I'll 
be  darned  if  I  don't  have  to  make  thee  a  present  of  a  big  box  of 
the  Chateau  Margaux.  Od  rot  me," — (Mr.  Shuttle  worthy  had  & 
sad  habit  of  swearing,  although  he  seldom  went  beyond  "  Od  rot 
me,"  or  "  By  gosh,"  or  "  By  the  jolly  golly,")—"  Od  rot  me," 
says  he,  "  if  I  don't  send  an  order  to  town  this  very  afternoon  for 
a  double  box  of  the  best  that  can  be  got,  and  I'll  make  ye  a  pres- 
ent of  it,  I  will ! — ye  needn't  say  a  word  now — I  will,  I  tell  ye, 
and  there's  an  end  of  it ;  so  look  out  for  it — it  will  come  to 
hand  some  of  these  fine  days,  precisely  when  ye  are  looking  for  it 
die  least !"  I  mention  this  little  bit  of  liberality  on  the  part  of 
Mr.  Shuttleworthy,  just  by  way  of  showing  you  how  very  intimate 
ar.  \mderstanding  existed  between  the  two  friends. 

Well,  on  the  Sunday  morning  in  question,  when  it  came  to  be 
fairly  understood  that  Mr.  Shuttleworthy  had  met  with  foul  play 
I  never  saw  any  one  so  profoundly  affected  as  "Old  Charley  Good- 
fellow."  When  he  first  heard  that  the  horse  had  come  home 
without  his  master,  and  without  his  master's  saddle-bags,  and  all 
bloody  from  a  pistol-shot,  that  had  gone  clean  through  and  through 
the  poor  animal's  chest  without  quite  killing  him — when  he  heard 
all  this,  he  turned  as  pale  as  if  the  missing  man  had  been  his  own 
dear  brother  or  father,  and  shivered  and  shook  all  over  as  if  he 
had  had  a  fit  of  the  ague. 

At  first,,  he  was  too  much  overpowered  with  grief  to  be  able  to 
do  anything  at  all,  or  to  decide  upon  any  plan  of  action ;  so  that 
for  a  long  time  he  endeavored  to  dissuade  Mr.  Shuttleworthy 's 
other  friends  from  making  a  stir  about  the  matter,  thinking  it  best 
to  wait  awhile — say  for  a  week  or  two,  or  a  month  or  two — to 
see  if  something  wouldn't  turn  up,  or  if  Mr.  Shuttleworthy  wouldn't 
come  in  the  natural  way,  and  explain  his  reasons  for  sending  his 
horse  on  before.  I  dare  say  you  have  often  observed  this  dispo- 
sition to  temporize,  or  to  procrastinate,  in  people  who  are  laboring 
iinder  any  very  poignant  sorrow.  Their  powers  of  mind  seem  to 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  439 

be  rendered  torpid,  so  that  they  have  a  horror  of  anything  like 
action,  and  like  nothing  in  the  world  so  well  as  to  lie  quietly  iu 
bed  and  "  nurse  their  grief,"  as  the  old  ladies  express  it — that  is 
to  say,  ruminate  over  their  trouble. 

The  people  of  Rattleborough  had,  indeed,  so  high  an  opinion 
of  the  wisdom  and  discretion  of  "  Old  Charley,"  that  the  greater 
part  of  them  felt  disposed  to  agree  with  him,  and  not  make  a  stir 
in  the  business  "  until  something  should  turn  up,"  as  the  honest 
old  gentleman  worded  it ;  and  I  believe  that,  after  all,  this  would 
have  been  the  general  determination,  but  for  the  very  suspicious 
interference  of  Mr.  Shuttleworthy's  nephew,  a  young  man  of  very 
dissipated  habits,  and  otherwise  of  rather  bad  character.  This 
nephew,  whose  name  was  Pennifeather,  would  listen  to  nothing 
like  reason  in  the  matter  of  "  lying  quiet,"  but  insisted  upon  ma- 
king immediate  search  for  the  "  corpse  of  the  murdered  man." 
This  was  the  expression  he  employed;  and  Mr.  Goodfellow  acutely 
remarked  at  the  time,  that  it  was  "  a  singular  expression,  to  sav 
no  more."  This  remark  of  Old  Charley's,  too,  had  great  effect 
upon  the  crowd ;  and  one  of  the  party  was  heard  to  ask,  very  im- 
pressively, "  how  it  happened  that  young  Mr.  Pennifeather  was  so 
intimately  cognizant  of  all  the  circumstances  connected  with  his 
wealthy  uncle's  disappearance,  as  to  feel  authorized  to  assert,  dis- 
tinctly and  unequivocally,  that  his  uncle  ivas  'a  murdered  man.'" 
Hereupon  some  little  squibbing  and  bickering  occurred  among 
various  members  of  the  crowd,  and  especially  between  "  Old  Char- 
ley" and  Mr.  Pennifeather — although  this  latter  occurrence  was, 
indeed,  by  no  means  a  novelty,  for  little  good  will  had  subsisted 
between  the  parties  for  the  last  three  or  four  months ;  and  matters 
had  even  gone  so  far,  that  Mr.  Pennifeather  had  actually  knocked 
down  his  uncle's  friend  for  some  alleged  excess  of  liberty  that, 
the  latter  had  taken  in  the  uncle's  house,  of  which  the  r.ephew 
was  an  inmate.  Upon  this  occasion,  "  Old  Charley  "  is  said  to 
have  behaved  with  exemplary  moderation  and  Christian  charity. 
He  arose  from  the  blow,  adjusted  his  clothes,  and  made  no  attempt 
at  retaliation  at  all — merely  muttering  a  few  words  about  "taking 
summary  vengeance  at  the  first  convenient  opportunity," — a  natu« 
ral  and  very  justifiable  ebullition  of  anger,  which  meant  nothing. 


440  THOU  ART  THE  MAN. 

however,  and,  beyond  doubt,  was  no  sooner  given  vent  to  than 
forgotten. 

However  these  matters  may  be,  (which  have  no  reference  to 
the  point  now  at  issue,)  it  is  quite  certain  that  the  people  of  Rat- 
tleborough,  principally  through  the  persuasion  of  Mr.  Pennifeather, 
came  at  length  to  the  determination  of  dispersing  over  the  adjacent 
country  in  search  of  the  missing  Mr.  Shuttleworthy.  I  say  they 
came  to  this  determination  in  the  first  instance.  After  it  had 
been  fully  resolved  that  a  search  should  be  made,  it  was  consider- 
ed almost  a  matter  of  course  that  the  seekers  should  disperse — 
that  is  to  say,  distribute  themselves  in  parties — for  the  more 
thorough  examination  of  the  region  round  about.  I  forget,  how- 
ever, by  what  ingenious  train  of  reasoning  it  was  that  "  Old  Char- 
ley" finally  convinced  the  assembly  that  this  was  the  most  inju- 
dicious plan  that  could  be  pursued.  Convince  them,  however,  he 
did — all  except  Mr.  Pennifeather ;  and,  in  the  end,  it  was  arranged 
that  a  search  should  be  instituted,  carefully  and  very  thoroughly, 
by  the  burghers  en  masse,  "Old  Charley"  himself  leading  the 
way. 

As  for  the  matter  of  that,  there  could  have  been  no  better  pio- 
neer than  "  Old  Charley,"  whom  everybody  knew  to  have  the  eye 
of  a  lynx  ;  but,  although  he  led  them  into  all  manner  of  out-of- 
the-way  holes  and  corners,  by  routes  that  nobody  had  ever  sus- 
pected of  existing  in  the  neighborhood,  and  although  the  search 
was  incessantly  kept  up  day  and  night  for  nearly  a  week,  still  no 
trace  of  Mr.  Shuttleworthy  could  be  discovered.  When  I  say  no 
trace,  however,  I  must  not  be  understood  to  speak  literally ;  for 
trace,  to  some  extent,  there  certainly  was.  The  poor  gentleman 
had  been  tracked,  by  his  horse's  shoes,  (which  were  peculiar,)  to 
a  spot  about  three  miles  to  the  east  of  the  borough,  on  the  main 
road  leading  to  the  city.  Here  the  track  made  off  into  a  by-path 
through  a  piece  of  woodland — the  path  coming  out  again  into  the 
main  road,  and  cutting  off  about  half  a  mile  of  the  regular  dis- 
tance. Following  *.he  shoe-marks  down  this  lane,  the  party  came 
at  length  to  a  pool  of  stagnant  water,  half  hidden  by  the  brambles 
to  the  right  of  the  lane,  and  opposite  this  pool  all  vestige  of  the 
track  vas  lost  sight  of.  It  appeared,  however,  that  a  struggle 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  44J 

of  some  nature  had  here  taken  place,  and  it  seemed  as  if  some 
large  and  heavy  body,  much  larger  and  heavier  than  a  man,  had 
been  drawn  from  the  by-path  to  the  pool.  This  latter  was  care- 
fully dragged  twice,  but  nothing  was  found ;  and  the  party  Avero 
upon  the  point  of  going  away,  in  despair  of  coming  to  any  result, 
when  Providence  suggested  to  Mr.  Goodfellow  the  expediency  of 
draining  the  water  off  altogether.  This  project  was  received  with 
cheers,  and  many  high  compliments  to  "  Old  Charley"  upon  his 
sagacity  and  consideration.  As  many  of  the  burghers  had  brought 
spades  with  them,  supposing  that  they  might  possibly  be  called 
upon  to  disinter  a  corpse,  the  drain  was  easily  and  speedily  effect- 
ed ;  and  no  sooner  was  the  bottom  visible,  than  right  in  the  middlo 
of  the  mud  that  remained  was  discovered  a  black  silk  velvet  waist- 
coat, which  nearly  every  one  present  immediately  recognised  as 
the  property  of  Mr.  Pennifeather.  This  waistcoat  was  much  torn 
and  stained  with  blood,  and  there  were  several  persons  among  the 
party  who  had  a  distinct  remembrance  of  its  having  been  worn 
by  its  owner  on  the  very  morning  of  Mr.  Slmttleworthy's  depar- 
ture for  the  city ;  while  there  were  others,  again,  ready  to  testify 
upon  oath,  if  required,  that  Mr.  P.  did  not  wear  the  garment  iii 
question  at  any  period  during  the  remainder  of  that  memorable 
day ;  nor  could  any  one  be  found  to  say  that  he  had  seen  it  upon 
Mr.  P.'s  person  at  any  period  at  all  subsequent  to  Mr.  Shuttle- 
worthy's  disappearance. 

Matters  now  wore  a  very  serious  aspect  for  Mr.  Pennifeather, 
and  it  was  observed,  as  an  indubitable  confirmation  of  the  suspi- 
cions which  were  excited  against  him,  that  he  grew  exceedingly 
pale,  and  when  asked  what  he  had  to  say  for  himself,  was  utterly 
incapable  of  saying  a  word.  Hereupon,  the  few  friends  his  riotous 
mode  of  living  had  left  him  deserted  him  at  once  to  a  man,  and 
were  even  more  clamorous  than  his  ancient  and  avowed  enemies 
for  his  instantaneous  arrest.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  magna- 
nimity of  Mr.  Goodfellow  shone  forth  with  only  the  more  brilliant 
lustre  through  contrast.  He  made  a  warm  and  intensely  eloquent 
defence  of  Mr.  Pennifeather,  in  which  he  alluded  more  than  once 
to  his  own  sincere  forgiveness  of  that  wild  young  gentleman — • 
"  the  heir  of  the  worthy  Mr.  Goodfellow," — for  the  insult  which 


4-12  THOU  ART  THE  MAN. 

he  (the  young  gentleman)  had,  no  doubt  in  the  heat  of  passion 
thought  proper  to  put  upon  him  (Mr.  Goodfellow.)  "  He  forgave 
him  for  it,"  he  said,  "  from  the  very  bottom  of  his  heart ;  and  for 
himself  (Mr.  Goodfellow,)  so  far  from  pushing  the  suspicious  cir- 
cumstances to  extremity,  which,  he  was  sorry  to  say,  really  had 
arisen  against  Mr.  Pennifeather,  he  (Mr.  Goodfellow)  would  make 
every  exertion  in  his  power,  would  employ  all  the  little  eloquence 
in  his  possession  to — to — to — soften  down,  as  much  as  he  could 
conscientiously  do  so,  the  worst  features  of  this  really  exceedingly 
perplexing  piece  of  business." 

Mr.  Goodfellow  went  on  for  some  half  hour  longer  in  this  strain, 
very  much  to  the  credit  both  of  his  head  and  of  his  heart ;  but 
your  warm-hearted  people  are  seldom  apposite  in  their  observa- 
tions— they  run  into  all  sorts  of  blunders,  contre-temps  and  mal 
hpropos-isms,  in  the  hot-headedness  of  their  zeal  to  serve  a  friend 
— thus,  often  with  the  kindest  intentions  in  the  world,  doing  infi- 
nitely more  to  prejudice  his  cause  than  to  advance  it. 

So,  in  the  present  instance,  it  turned  out  with  all  the  eloquence 
of  "  Old  Charley ;"  for,  although  he  labored  earnestly  in  behalf 
of  the  suspected,  yet  it  so  happened,  somehow  or  other,  that  every 
syllable  he  uttered  of  which  the  direct  but  unwitting  tendency 
was  not  to  exalt  the  speaker  in  the  good  opinion  of  his  audience, 
had  the  effect  of  deepening  the  suspicion  already  attached  to  the 
individual  whose  cause  he  plead,  and  of  arousing  against  him  the 
fury  of  the  mob. 

One  of  the  most  unaccountable  errors  committed  by  the  orator 
was  his  allusion  to  the  suspected  as  "  the  heir  of  the  worthy  old 
gentleman  Mr.  Goodfellow."  The  people  had  really  never  thought 
of  this  before.  They  had  only  remembered  certain  threats  of  dis- 
inheritance uttered  a  year  or  two  previously  by  the  uncle,  (who 
had  no  living  relative  except  the  nephew ;)  and  they  had,  there- 
fore, always  looked  upon  this  disinheritance  as  a  matter  that  was 
settled — so  single-minded  a  race  of  beings  were  the  Rattleburghers  5 
but  the  remark  of  "  Old  Charley"  brought  them  at  once  to  a  con- 
sideration of  this  point,  and  thus  gave  them  to  sec  the  possibility 
of  the  threats  having  been  nothing  more  than  a  threat.  And 
straightway,  hereupon,  arose  the  natural  question  oicuibono? — a 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  443 

question  that  tended  even  more  than  the  waistcoat  to  fasten  thq 
terrible  crime  upon  the  young  man.  And  here,  lest  I  be  misun- 
derstood, permit  me  to  digress  for  one  moment  merely  to  observe 
that  the  exceedingly  brief  and  simple  Latin  phrase  which  I  have 
employed,  is  invariably  mistranslated  and  misconceived.  "  Cui 
bono"  in  all  the  crack  novels  and  elsewhere, — in  those  of  Mrs.  Gore, 
for  example,  (the  author  of  "Cecil,")  a  lady  who  quotes  all  tongut-s 
from  the  Chaldean  to  Chickasaw,  and  is  helped  to  her  learning, 
"  as  needed,"  upon  a  systematic  plan,  by  Mr.  Beckford,--in  all  the 
crack  novels,  I  say,  from  those  of  Bulwer  and  Dickens  to  those  of 
Turnapenny  and  Ainsworth,  the  two  little  Latin  words  cui  bono 
are  rendered  "  to  what  purpose,"  or,  (as  if  quo  bono?)  "  to  what 
good."  Their  true  meaning,  nevertheless,  is  "  for  whose  advan- 
tage." Cui,  *to  whom  ;  lono,  is  it  for  a  benefit.  It  is  a  purely 
legal  phrase,  and  applicable  precisely  in  cases  such  as  we  have 
now  under  consideration,  where  the  probability  of  the  doer  of  a 
deed  hinges  upon  the  probability  of  the  benefit  accruing  to  this 
individual  or  to  that  from  the  deed's  accomplishment.  Now,  in 
the  present  instance,  the  question  cui  bono  very  pointedly  impli 
cated  Mr.  Pennifeather.  His  uncle  had  threatened  him,  after 
making  a  will  in  his  favor,  with  disinheritance.  But  the  threat 
had  not  been  actually  kept ;  the  original  will,  it  appeared,  had  not 
oeen  altered.  Had  it  been  altered,  the  only  supposable  motive 
for  murder  on  the  part  of  the  suspected  would  have  been  the  or- 
dinary one  of  revenge;  and  even  this  would  have  been  counter- 
acted by  the  hope  of  reinstation  into  the  good  graces  of  the  uncle. 
But  the  will  being  unaltered,  while  the  threat  to  alter  remained 
suspended  'over  the  nephew's  head,  there  appears  at  once  the  very 
strongest  possible  inducement  for  the  atrocity  :  and  so  concluded, 
very  sagaciously,  the  worthy  citizens  of  the  borough  of  Rattle. 

Mr.  Pennifeather  was,  accordingly,  arrested  upon  the  spot,  and 
the  crowd,  after  some  farther  search,  proceeded  homewards,  having 
him  in  custody..  On  the  route,  however,  another  circumstance 
occurred  tending  to  confirm  the  suspicion  entertained.  Mr.  GooJ- 
fellow,  whose  zeal  led  him  to  be  always  a  little  in  advance  of  the 
party,  was  seen  suddenly  to  run  forward  a  few  paces,  stoop,  and 
then  apparently  to  pick  up  some  small  object  from  the  grass 


444  THOU  ART  THE  MAN. 

Having  quickly  examined  it,  he  was  observed,  too,  to  make  a  sort 
of  half  attempt  at  concealing  it  in  his  coat  pocket ;  but  this  ac- 
tion was  noticed,  as  I  say,  and  consequently  prevented,  when  the 
object  picked  up  was  found  to  be  a  Spanish  knife  which  a  dozen 
persons  at  once  recognised  as  belonging  to  Mr.  Pennifeather. 
Moreover,  his  initials  were  engraved  upon  the  handle.  The  blade 
of  this  knife  was  open  and  bloody. 

No  doubt  now  remained  of  the  guilt  of  the  nephew,  and  imme- 
diately upon  reaching  Rattleborough  he  was  taken  before  a  magis- 
trate tor  examination. 

Here  matters  again  took  a  most  unfavorable  turn.  The  prisoner, 
being  questioned  as  to  his  whereabouts  on  the  morning  of  Mr. 
Shuttle-worthy's  disappearance,  had  absolutely  the  audacity  to  ac- 
knowledge that  on  that  very  morning  he  had  been  out  with  his 
rifle  deer-stalking,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  pool 
where  the  blood-stained  waistcoat  had  been  discovered  through 
the  sagacity  of  Mr.  Goodfellow. 

This  latter  now  came  forward,  and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  asked 
permission  to  be  examined.  -He  said  that  a  stern  sense  of  the  duty 
he  owed  his  Maker,  not  less  than  his  fellow-men,  would  permit  him 
no  longer  to  remain  silent.  Hitherto,  the  sincerest  affection  for 
the  young  man  (notwithstanding  the  latter's  ill  treatment  of  him- 
self, Mr.  Goodfellow,)  had  induced  him  to  make  every  hypothesis 
which  imagination  could  suggest,  by  way  of  endeavoring  to  account 
for  what  appeared  suspicious  in  the  circumstances  that  told  so 
seriously  against  Mr.  Pennifeather  ;  but  these  circumstances  were 
now  altogether  too  convincing — too  damning ;  he  would  hesitate 
no  longer — he  would  tell  all  he  knew,  although  his  heart  (Mr. 
Goodfellow's)  should  absolutely  burst  asunder  in  the  effort.  He 
then  went  on  to  state  that,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  previous 
to  Mr.  Shuttleworthy's  departure  for  the  city,  that  worthy  old  gen- 
tleman had  mentioned  to  his  nephew,  in  his  hearing,  (Mr.  Good- 
fellow's,)  that  his  object  in  going  to  town  on  the  morrow  was  to 
make  a  deposit  of  an  unusually  large  sum  of  money  in  the  "  Far- 
mers' and  Mechanics'  Bank,"  and  that,  then  ar.d  there  the  said 
Mr.  Shuttleworthy  had  distinctly  avowed  to  the  said  nephew  his 
irrevocable  determination  of  rescinding  the  will  originally 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  445 

and  of  cutting  him  off  with  a  shilling.  He  (the  witness)  now 
solemnly  called  upon  the  accused  to  state  whether  what  he  (the 
witness)  had  just  stated  was  or  was  not  the  truth  in  every  sub- 
stantial particular.  Much  to  the  astonishment  of  every  one  pro- 
sent,  Mr.  Pennifeather  frankly  admitted  that  it  was. 

The  magistrate  now  considered  it  his  duty  to  send  a  couple  of 
constables  to  search  the  chamber  of  the  accused  in  the  house  of 
his  uncle.  From  this  search  they  almost  immediately  returned 
with  the  well  known  steel-bound,  russet  leather  pocket-book  which 
the  old  gentleman  had  been  in  the  habit  of  carrying  for  years.  Its 
valuable  contents,  however,  had  been  abstracted,  and  the  magis- 
trate in  vain  endeavored  to  extort  from  the  prisoner  the  use  which 
had  been  made  of  them,  or  the  place  of  their  concealment.  In- 
deed, he  obstinately  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  matter.  The 
constables,  also,  discovered,  between  the  bed  and  sacking  of  the 
unhappy  man,  a  shirt  and  neck-handkerchief  both  marked  with 
the  initials  of  his  name,  and  both  hideously  besmeared  with  the 
blood  of  the  victim. 

At  this  juncture,  it  was  announced  that  the  horse  of  the  mur- 
dered man  had  just  expired  in  the  stable  from  the  effects  of  the 
wound  he  had  received,  and  it  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Goodfellow 
that  a  post  mortem  examination  of  the  beast  should  be  immedi- 
ately made,  with  the  view,  if  possible,  of  discovering  the  ball.  This 
was  accordingly  done  ;  and,  as  if  to  demonstrate  beyond  a  ques- 
tion the  guilt  of  the  accused,  Mr.  Goodfellow,  after  considerable 
searching  in  the  cavity  of  the  chest,  was  enabled  to  detect  and  to 
pull  forth  a  bullet  of  very  extraordinary  size,  which,  upon  trial, 
was  found  to  be  exactly  adapted  to  the  bore  of  Mr.  Pennifeather's 
rifle,  while  it  was  far  too  large  for  that  of  any  other  person  in  the 
borough  or  its  vicinity.  To  render  the  matter  even  surer  yet, 
however,  this  bullet  was  discovered  to  have  a  flaw  or  seam  at 
right  angles  to  the  usual  suture  ;  and  upon  examination,  this  seam 
corresponded  precisely  with  an  accidental  ridge  or  elevation  in  a 
paii  of  moulds  acknowledged  by  the  accused  himself  to  be  his 
own  property.  Upon  the  finding  of  this  bullet,  the  examining 
magistrate  refused  to  listen  to  any  farther  testimony,  and  imme- 
diately committed  the  prisoner  for  trial — declining  resolutely  to 


446  THOU  ART  THE   MAN. 

take  any  bail  in  the  case,  although  against  this  severity  Mr.  Good 
fellow  very  warmly  remonstrated,  and  offered  to  become  surety  in 
whatever  amount  might  be  required.  This  generosity  on  the  part 
of  "  Old  Charley"  was  only  in  accordance  with  the  whole  tenor 
of  his  amiable  and  chivalrous  conduct  during  the  entire  period  of 
his  sojourn  in  the  borough  of  Rattle.  In  the  present  instance,  the 
worthy  man  was  so  entirely  carried  away  by  the  excessive  warmth 
of  his  sympathy,  that  he  seemed  to  have  quite  forgotten,  when  he 
offered  to  go  bail  for  his  young  friend,  that  he  himself  (Mr.  Good- 
fellow)  did  not  possess  a  single  dollar's  worth  of  property  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

The  result  of  the  committal  may  be  readily  foreseen.  Mr.  Pen- 
nifeather,  amid  the  loud  execrations  of  all  Rattleborough,  was 
brought  to  trial  at  the  next  criminal  sessions,  when  the  chain 
of  circumstantial  evidence  (strengthened  as  it  was  by  some  ad- 
ditional damning  facts,  which  Mr.  Goodfellow's  sensitive  con- 
scientiousness forbade  him  to  withhold  from  the  court.,)  was 
considered  so  unbroken  and  so  thoroughly  conclusive,  that  the 
jury,  without  leaving  their  seats,  returned  an  immediate  verdict 
of  "  Guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree?  Soon  afterwards 
the  unhappy  wretch  received  sentence  of-  death,  and  was  re- 
manded to  the  county  jail  to  await  the  inexorable  vengeance  of 
the  law. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  noble  behavior  of  "  Old  Charley  Goodfel- 
low"  had  doubly  endeared  him  to  the  honest  citizens  of  the  bor- 
ough. He  became  ten  times  a  greater  favorite  than  ever ;  and, 
as  a  natural  result  of  the  hospitality  with  which  he  was  treated, 
he  relaxed,  as  it  were,  perforce,  the  extremely  parsimonious  habits 
which  his  poverty  had  hitherto  impelled  him  to  observe,  and  very 
frequently  had  little  reunions  at  his  own  house,  when  wit  and 
jollity  reigned  supreme — dampened  a  little,  of  course,  by  the  occa- 
sional remembrance  of  the  untoward  and  melancholy  fate  which 
impended  over  the  nephew  of  the  late  lamented  bosom  friend  of 
the  generous  host. 

One  fine  day,  this  magnanimous  old  gentleman  was  agreeably 
surprised  at  the  receipt  of  the  following  letter : — 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  447 

"  Charles  Goodfellow,  Esquire — 

"Dear  Sir — In  conformity  with  an  order  transmitted  to  our  firm 
ab\Yut  two  months  since,  by  our  esteemed  correspondent,  Mr.  Barna- 
bas Shultlemorthy,  we  have  the  honor  of  forwarding  this  morning, 
to  your  address,  a  double  box  of  (Jhateau-Margaux,  of  the  antelope 
brand,  violet  seal.  Box  numbered  and  marked  as  per  margin. 
1  We  remain,  sir, 

"  Your  most  ob'nt  ser'ls, 

Hones,  FROGS,  BOGS  &  Co. 

"  City  of ,  June  21st,  18—. 

"  P.  S. — The  box  mil  reach  you,  by  wagon,  on  the  day  after  youf 
receipt  of  this  letter      Our  respects  to  Mr.  Shuttleworthy. 

H.  F.  B.  &  Co." 


The  fact  is,  that  Mr.  Goodfellow  had,  since  the  death  of  Mr. 
Shuttleworthy,  given  over  all  expectation  of  ever  receiving  the 
promised  Chateau-Margaux  ;  and  he,  therefore,  looked  upon  it  now 
as  a  sort  of  especial  dispensation  of  Providence  in  his  behalf.  Ha 
was  highly  delighted,  of  course,  and  in  the  exuberance  of  his  joy, 
invited  a  large  party  of  friends  to  a  petit  souper  on  the  morrow, 
por  the  purpose  of  broaching  the  good  old  Mr.  Shuttle  worthy's  pre  • 
seat.  Not  that  he  said  any  thing  about  "the  good  old  Mr.  Shut- 
tleworthy" when  he  issued  the  invitations.  The  fact  is,  he  thought 
much  and  concluded  to  say  nothing  at  all.  He  did  not  mention 
to  any  one — if  I  remember  aright — that  he  had  received  a  present 
of  Chateau-Margaux.  He  merely  asked  his  friends  to  come  and 
help  him  drink  some  of  a  remarkably  fine  quality  and  rich  flavor, 
that  he  had  ordered  up  from  the  city  a  couple  of  months  ago,  and 
of  which  he  would  be  in  the  receipt  upon  the  morrow.  I  have 
often  puzzled  myself  to  imagine  why  it  was  that  "  Old  Charley" 
came  to  the  conclusion  to  say  nothing  about  having  received  the 
wine  f:om  his  old  friend,  but  I  could  never  precisely  understand 
his  reason  for  the  silence,  although  he  had  some  excellent  and  very 
magnanimous  reason,  no  doubt. 

The  morrow  at  length  arrived,  and  with  it  a  very  large  and 
highly  respectable  company  at  Mr.  Goodfellow's  house.  Indeed, 
half  the  borough  was  there — I  myself  among  the  number — but, 
much  to  the  vexation  of  the  host,  the  Chateau-Margaux  did  not 
arrive  until  a  late  hour,  and  when  the  sumptuous  supper 'supplied 
by  "  Old  Charley"  had  been  drne  very  ample  justice  by  the 


443  TIIOU  ART  THE  MAN. 

guests.  It  came  at  length,  however, — a  monstrously  big  box  of 
it  there  was,  too, — and  as  the  whole  party  were  in  excessively 
good  humor,  it  was  decided,  nem.  con.,  that  it  should  be  lifted 
upon  the  table  and  its  contents  disemboweled  forthwith. 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  I  lent  a  helping  hand ;  and,  in  a 
trice,  we  had  the  box  upon  the  table,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  bottles 
and  glasses,  not  a  few  of  which  were  demolished  in  the  scuffle. 
"  Old  Charley,"  who  was  pretty  much  intoxicated,  and  excessively 
red  in  the  face,  now  took  a  seat,  with  an  air  of  mock  dignity,  at 
the  head  of  the  board,  and  thumped  furiously  upon  it  with  a 
decanter,  calling  upon  the  company  to  keep  order  "  during  the 
ceremony  of  disinterring  the  treasure." 

After  some  vociferation,  quiet  was  at  length  fully  restored,  and, 
as  very  often  happens  in  similar  cases,  a  profound  and  remarkable 
silence  ensued.  Being  then  requested  to  force  open  the  lid,  I 
complied,  of  course,  "with  an  infinite  deal  of  pleasure."  I  inserted 
a  chisel,  and  giving  it  a  few  slight  taps  with  a  hammer,  the  top 
of  the  box  flew  suddenly  and  violently  off,  and,  at  the  same 
instant,  there  sprang  up  into  a  sitting  position,  directly  facing  the 
host,  the  bruised,  bloody  and  nearly  putrid  corpse  of  the  murdered 
Mr.  Shuttleworthy  himself.  It  gazed  for  a  few  moments,  fixedly 
and  sorrowfully,  with  its  decaying  and  lack-lustre  eyes,  full  into 
the  countenance  of  Mr.  Goodfellow ;  uttered  slowly,  but  clearly 
and  impressively,  the  words — "  Thou  art  the  man !"  and  then, 
falling  over  the  side  of  the  chest  as  if  thoroughly  satisfied, 
stretched  out  its  limbs  quiveringly  upon  the  table. 

The  scene  that  ensued  is  altogether  beyond  description.  The 
rush  for  the  doors  and  windows  was  terrific,  and  many  of  the  most 
robust  men  in  the  room  fainted  outright  through  sheer  horror. 
But  after  the  first  wild,  shrieking  burst  of  affright,  all  eyes  were 
directed  to  Mr.  Goodfellow.  If  I  live  a  thousand  years,  I  can 
never  forget  the  more  than  mortal  agony  which  was  depicted  in 
that  ghastly  face  of  his,  so  lately  rubicund  with  triumph  and  wine. 
For  several  minutes,  he  sat  rigidly  as  a  statue  of  marble  ;  his  eyes 
seeming,  in  the  intense  vacancy  of  their  gaze,  to  be  turned  inwards 
and  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  his  own  miserable,  murderous 
Roul.  At  length,  their  expression  appeared  to  flash  suddenly  out 
into  the  external  world,  when  with  a  quick  leap,  he  sprang  from 


THOU  ART  THE  MAN.  449 

his  chair,  and  falling  heavily  with  his  head  and  shoulder?  upon 
the  table,  and  in  contact  with  the  corpse,  poured  out  rapidiy  and 
vehemently  a  detailed  confession  of  the  hideous  crime  for  which 
Mr.  Penuiteather  was  then  imprisoned  and  doomed  to  die. 

What  he  recounted  was  in  substance  this : — He  followed  his 
victim  to  the  vicinity  of  the  pool ;  there  shot  his  horse  with  a 
pistol ;  despatched  the  rider  with  its  butt  end ;  possessed  himself 
of  the  pocket-book ;  and,  supposing  the  horse  dead,  dragged  it 
with  great  labor  to  the  brambles  by  the  pond.  Upon  his  owu 
beast  he  slung  the  corpse  of  Mr.  Shuttleworthy,  and  thus  bore  it 
to  a  secure  place  of  concealment  a  long  distance  off  through  the 
woods. 

The  waistcoat,  the  knife,  the  pocket-book  and  bullet,  had  been 
placed  by  himself  where  found,  with  the  view  of  avenging  himself 
upon  Mr.  Pennifeather.  He  had  also  contrived  the  discovery  of 
the  stained  handkerchief  and  shirt. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  blood-chilling  recital,  the  words  of  the 
guilty  wretch  faltered  and  grew  hollow.  When  the  record  was 
finally  exhausted,  he  arose,  staggered  backwards  from  the  table, 
and  fell — dead. 


The  means  by  which  this  happily-timed  confession  was  extorted, 
although  efficient,  were  simple  indeed.  Mr.  Goodfellow's  excess 
of  frankness  had  disgusted  me,  and  excited  my  suspicions  from  the 
first.  I  was  present  when  Mr.  Pennifeather  had  struck  him,  and 
the  fiendish  expression  which  then  arose  upon  his  countenance, 
although  momentary,  assured  me  that  his  threat  of  vengeance 
would,  if  possible,  be  rigidly  fulfilled.  I  was  thus  prepared  to  view 
the  manoeuvring  of  "  Old  Charley"  in  a  very  different  light  from 
that  in  which  it  was  regarded  by  the  good  citizens  of  Rattlebor- 
ough.  I  saw  at  once  that  all  the  criminating  discoveries  arose, 
either  directly,  or  indirectly,  from  himself.  But  the  fact  which 
clearly  opened  my  eyes  to  the  true  state  of  the  case,  was  tto 
affair  of  the  bullet,  found  by  Mr.  G.  in  the  carcass  of  the  horse, 
/  had  not  forgotten,  although  the  Kattleburghers  had,  that  there 
was  a  hole  where  the  ball  had  entered  the  horse,  and  another 
where  it  went  out.  If  it  were  found  in  the  animal  then,  after  having 
made  its  exit  I  saw  clearly  that  it  must  have  been  deposited  by 


4,-,0  THOU  ART  THE  MAN. 

tlie  person  who  found  it.  The  bloody  shirt  and  handkerchief  con- 
firmed the  idea  suggested  by  the  bullet ;  for  the  blood  upon 
examination  proved  to  be  capital  claret,  and  no  more.  When  I 
came  to  think  of  these  things,  and  also  of  the  late  increase  of 
liberality  and  expenditure  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Goodfellow,  I  enter- 
tained a  suspicion  which  was  none  the  less  strong  because  I  kept 
it  altogether  to  myself. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  instituted  a  rigorous  private  search  for  the 
Corpse  of  Mr.  Shuttleworthy,  and,  for  good  reasons,  searched  in 
quarters  as  divergent  as  possible  from  those  to  which  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  conducted  his  party.  The  result  was  that,  after  some  days, 
I  came  across  an  old  dry  well,  the  mouth  of  which  was  nearly 
hidden  by  brambles ;  and  here,  at  the  bottom,  I  discovered  what 
I  sought. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  I  had  overheard  the  colloquy  between 
the  two  cronies,  when  Mr.  Goodfellow  had  contrived  to  cajole  his 
host  into  the  promise  of  a  box  of  Chateau-Margaux.  Upon  this 
hint- 1  acted.  I  procured  a  stiff  piece  of  whalebone,  thrust  it 
down  the  throat  of  the  corpse,  and  deposited  the  latter  in  an  old 
wine  box — taking  care  so  to  double  the  body  up  as  to  double  the 
whalebone  with  it.  In  this  manner  I  had  to  press  forcibly  upon 
the  lid  to  keep  it  down  while  I  secured  it  with  nails ;  and  I  antici- 
pated, of  course,  that  as  soon  as  these  latter  were  removed,  the  top 
would  fly  off  and  the  body  up. 

Having  thus  arranged  the  box,  I  marked,  numbered  and  ad- 
dressed it  as  already  told ;  and  then  writing  a  letter  in  the  name 
of  the  wine  merchants  with  whom  Mr.  Shuttleworthy  dealt,  1 
gave  instructions  .to  my  servant  to  wheel  the  box  to  Mr.  Goodfel- 
lows's  door,  in  a  barrow,  at  a  given  signal  from  myself.  For  the 
words  which  I  intended  the  corpse  to  speak,  I  confidently  depend- 
ed upon  my  ventriloquial  abilities  ;  for  their  effect,  I  counted  upon 
the  conscience  of  the  murderous  wretch. 

I  believe  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  explained.  Mr.  Penni- 
feather  was  released  upon  the  spot,  inherited  the  fortune  of  his 
uncle,  profited  by  the  lessons  of  experience,  turned  over  a  new 
leaf,  and  led  happily  ever  afterwards  a  new  life. 


I  NEVER  knew  any  one  so  keenly  alive  to  a  joke  as  the  king 
was.  He  seemed  to  live  only  for  joking.  To  tell  a  good  story 
of  the  joke  kind,  and  to  tell  it  well,  was  the  surest  road  to  his 
favor.  Thus  it  happened  that  his  seven  ministers  were  all  noted 
for  their  accomplishments  as  jokers.  They  all  took  after  the-  king, 
too,  in  being  large,  corpulent,  oily  men,  as  well  as  inimitable 
jokers.  Whether  people  grow  fat  by  joking,  or  whether  there  is 
something  in  fat  itself  which  predisposes  to  a  joke,  I  have  never 
been  quite  able  to  determine ;  but  certain  it  is  that  a  lean  joker  is 
a  rr.ra  avis  in  terris. 

About  the  refinements,  or,  as  he  called  them,  the  "  ghosts"  of 
wit,  the  king  troubled  himself  very  little.  He  had  an  especial 
admiration  for  breadth  in  a  jest,  and  would  often  put  up  with 
length,  for  the  sake  of  it.  Over-niceties  wearied  him.  He  would 
have  preferred  Rabelais's  "  Gargantua,"  to  the  "  Zadig"  of  Vol- 
taire :  and,  upon  the  whole,  practical  jokes  suited  his  taste  far 
better  than  verbal  ones. 

At  the  date  of  my  narrative,  professing  jesters  had  not  alto- 
gether gone  out  of  fashion  at  court.  Several  of  the  great  conti- 
nental "  powers"  still  retained  their  "  fools,"  who  wore  motley, 
wilh  caps  and  bells,  ajid  who  were  expected  to  be  always  ready 
with  sharp  witticisms,  at  a  moment's  notice,  in  consideration  of  the 
crumbs  that  fell  from  the  royal  table. 

Our  king,  as  a  matter  of  course,  retained  his  "  fool."  The  fact 
is,  he  required  something  in  the  way  of  folly — if  only  to  eouu- 


452  HOP-FKOG. 

terbalance  the  heavy  wisdom  of  the  seven  wise  men  who  were  his 
ministers — not  to  mention  himself. 

His  fool,  or  professional  jester,  was  not  only  a  foot,  however. 
His  value  was  trebled  in  the  eyes  of  the  long,  by  the  fact  of  hia 
being  also  a  dwarf  and  a  cripple.  Dwarfs  were  as  common  at 
court,  in  those  clays,  as  fools ;  and  many  monarchs  would  have 
found  it  difficult  to  get  through  their  days  (days  are  rather  longer 
at  court  than  elsewhere)  without  both  a  jester  to  laugh  ivith,  and 
a  dwarf  to  laugh  at.  But,  as  I  have  already  observed,  your  jest- 
ers, in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred,  are  fat,  round  and  un- 
wieldy— so  that  it  was  no  small  source  of  self-gratulation  with 
our  king  that,  in  Hop-Frog  (this  was  the  fool's  name,)  he  pos- 
sessed a  triplicate  treasure  in  one  person. 

I  believe  the  name  "  Hop-Frog"  was  not  that  given  to  the 
dwarf  by  his  sponsors  at  baptism,  but  it  was  conferred  upon  Inin, 
by  general  consent  of  the  seven  ministers,  on  account  of  hi:-',  ina- 
bility to  walk  as  other  men  do.  In  fact,  Hop-Frog  could  onl/  get 
along  by  a  sort  of  interjectional  gait — something  between  a  leap 
and  a  wriggle — a  movement  that  afforded  illimitable  amuf  omerit, 
and  of  course  consolation,  to  the  king,  for  (notwithstandiag  the 
protuberance  of  his  stomach  and  a  constitutional  swelling  of  the 
head)  the  king,  by  his  whole  court,  was  accounted  a  capital  figure. 

But  although  Hop-Frog,  through  the  distortion  of  Ida  legs, 
could  move  only  with  great  pain  and  difficulty  along  a  road  or 
floor,  the  prodigious  muscular  power  which  nature  seemed  to  have 
bestowed  upon  his  arms,  by  way  of  compensation  for  deficiency  in 
the  lower  limbs,  enabled  him  to  perform  many  feats  of  wonderful 
dexterity,  where  trees  or  ropes  were  in  question,  or  anything  else 
to  climb.  At  such  exercises  he  certainly  much  more  resembled  a 
squirrel,  or  a  small  monkey,  than  a  frog. 

I  am  not  able  to  say,  with  precision,  from  what  country  Hop- 
Frog  originally  came.  It  was  from  some  baibarous  region,  how- 
ever, that  no  person  ever  heard  of — a  vast  distance  from  the  court 
of  our  king.  Hop-Frog,  and  a  young  girl  very  little  less  dwarfish 
than  himself  (although  of  exquisite  proportions,  and  a  marvellous 
dancer,)  had  been  forcibly  carried  oft"  from  their  respective  homes 
in  adjoining  provinces,  and  sent  as  presents  to  the  king,  by  one 
of  his  ever-victorious  generals. 


HOP-FROG.  453 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  a 
close  intimacy  arose  between  the  two  little  captives.  Indeed,  they 
soon  became  sworn  friends.  Hop-Frog,  who,  although  he  made 
a  great  deal  of  sport,  was  by  no  means  popular,  had  it  not  in  hia 
power  to  render  Trippetta  many  services ;  but  she,  on  account  of 
her  grace  and  exquisite  beauty  (although  a  dwarf,)  T/as  univer- 
sally admired  and  petted  :  so  she  possessed  much  influence ;  and 
never  failed  to  use  it,  whenever  she  could,  for  the  benefit  of  Hop 
Frog. 

On  some  grand  state  occasion — I  forget  what — the  king  deter- 
mined to  have  a  masquerade;  and  whenever  a  masquerade,  or 
anything  of  that  kind,  occurred  at  our  court,  then  the  talents  both 
of  Hop-Frog  and  Trippetta  were  sure  to  be  called  in  play.  Hop- 
Frog,  in  especial,  was  so  inventive  in  the  way  of  getting  up  pa- 
geants, suggesting  novel  characters,  and  arranging  costume,  for 
masked  balls,  that  nothing  could  be  done,  it  seems,  without  his 
assistance.  . 

The  night  appointed  for  the  fete  had  arrived.  A  gorgeous  hall 
had  been  fitted  up,  under  Trippetta's  eye,  with  every  kind  of  de- 
vice which  could  possibly  give  eclat  to  a  masquerade.  The  whole 
court  was  in  a  fever  of  expectation.  As  for  costumes  and  charac- 
ters, it  might  well  be  supposed  that  everybody  had  come  to  a 
decision  on  such  points.  Many  had  made  up  their  minds  (as  to 
what  roles  they  should  assume)  a  week,  or  even  a  month,  in  ad- 
vance; and,  in  fact,  there  was  not  a  particle  of  indecision  any- 
where— except  in  the  case  of  the  king  and  his  seven  ministers. 
Why  they  hesitated  I  never  could  tell,  unless  they  did  it  by  way 
of  a  joke.  More  probably,  they  found  it  difficult,  on  account  of 
being  so  fat,  to  make  up  their  minds.  At  all  events,  time  flew; 
and,  as  a  last  resource,  they  sent  for  Trippetta  and  Hop-Frog. 

When  the  two  little  friends  obeyed  the  summons  of  the  king, 
they  found  him  sitting  at  his  wine  with  the  seven  members  of  his 
cabinet  council;  but  the  monarch  appeared  to  be  in  a  very  ill 
humor.  He  knew  that  Hop-Frog  was  not  fond  of  wine;  for  it 
excited  the  poor  cripple  almost  to  madness;  and  madness  is  no 
comfortable  feeling.  But  the  king  loved  his  practical  jokes,  and 
took  pleasure  in  forcing  Hop-Frog  to  drink  and  (as  the  king  caHed 
it)  "to  be  merry." 


454  HOP-FROG. 

"  Come  here,  Hop-Frog,"  said  lie,  as  the  jester  and  his  friend 
entered  the  room:  "swallow  this  bumper  to  the  health  of  your 
absent  friends  [here  Hop-Frog  sighed,]  and  then  let  us  have  the 
benefit  of  your  invention.  We  want  characters — characters^  mat 
• — something  novel — out  of  the  way.  We  are  wearied  with  this 
everlasting  sameness.  Come,  drink !  the  wine  will  brighten 
your  wits." 

Hop-Frog  endeavored,  as  usual,  to  get  up  a  jest  in  reply  to 
these  advances  from  the  king ;  but  the  effort  was  too  much.  It 
happened  to  be  the  poor  dwarf's  birthday,  and  the  command  to 
drink  to  his  "absent  friends"  forced  the  tears  to  his  eyes.  Many 
large,  bitter  drops  fell  into  the  goblet  as  he  took  it,  humbly,  from 
the  hand  of  the  tyrant. 

"  Ah  !  ha  !  ha !  ha  !"  roared  the  latter,  as  the  dwarf  reluctantly 
drained  the  beaker.  "  See  what  a  glass  of  good  wine  can  do ! 
Why,  your  eyes  are  shining  already  !" 

Poor  fellow  !  his  large  eyes  gleamed,  rather  than  shone  ;  for  the 
effect  of  wine  on  his  excitable  brain  was  not  more  powerful  than 
instantaneous.  He  placed  the  goblet  nervously  on  the  table,  and 
looked  round  upon  the  company  with  a  half-insane  stare.  They 
all  seemed  highly  amused  at  the  success  of  the  king's  "joke." 

"  And  now  to  business,"  said  the  prime  minister,  a  very  fat 
man. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  king ;  "  come,  Hop-Frog,  lend  us  your  assist- 
ance. Characters,  my  fine  fellow  ;  we  stand  in  need  of  character 
— all  of  us — ha  !  ha  !  ha !"  and  as  this  was  seriously  meant  for  a 
joke,  his  laugh  was  chorused  by  the  seven. 

"  Hop-Frog  also  laughed,  although  .feebly  and  somewhat  va- 
cantly. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  king,  impatiently,  "have  you  nothing 
to  suggest  ?" 

" I  am  endeavoring  to  think  of  something  novel"  replied  the 
dwarf,  abstractedly,  for  he  was  quite  bewildered  by  the  wine. 

"  Endeavoring !"  cried  the  tyrant,  fiercely  ;  "  what  do  you 
mean  by  that  ?  Ah,  I  perceive.  You  are  sulky,  and  want  more 
wine.  Here,  drink  this  !"  and  he  poured  out  another  goblet  full 
and  offered  it  to  the  cripple,  who  merely  gazed  at  it,  gasping  for 
breath. 


HOP-FROG.  455 

"  Drink,  I  say  !"  shouted  the  monster,  "  or  by  the  fiends — " 

The  dwarf  hesitated.  The  king  grew  purple  with  rage.  The 
courtiers  smirked.  Trippetta,  pale  as  a  corpse,  advanced  to  the 
monarch's  seat,  and,  falling  on  her  knees  before  him,  implored 
him  to  spare  her  friend. 

The  tyrant  regarded  her,  for  some  moments,  in  evident  wonder 
at.  her  audacity.  He  seemed  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do  or  say — 
how  most  becomingly  to  express  his  indignation.  At  last,  with- 
out uttering  a  syllable,  he  pushed  her  violently  from  him,  and 
threw  the  contents  of  the  brimming  goblet  in  her  face. 

The  poor  girl  got  up  as  best  she  could,  and,  not  daring  even  to 
sigh,  resumed  her  position  at  the  foot  of  the  table. 

There  was  a  dead  silence  for  about  a  half  a  minute,  during 
which  the  falling  of  a  leaf,  or  of  a  feather,  might  have  been  heard. 
It  was  interrupted  by  a  low,  but  harsh  and  protracted  grating 
sound  which  seemed  to  come  at  once  from  every  corner  of  the 
room. 

"  What — what — what  are  you  making  that  noise  for  ?"  de 
manded  the  king,  turning  furiously  to  the  dwarf. 

The  latter  seemed  to  have  recovered,  in  great  measure,  from 
his  intoxication,  and  looking  fixedly  but  quietly  into  the  tyrant'^ 
face,  merely  ejaculated : 

"  I — I  ?     How  could  it  have  been  me  ?" 

"  The  sound  appeared  to  come  from  without,"  observed  one  of 
the  courtiers.  "I  fancy  it  was  the  parrot  at  the  window,  whetting 
his  bill  upon  his  cage-wires." 

"  True,"  replied  the  monarch,  as  if  much  relieved  by  the  sug- 
gestion ;  "  but,  on  the  honor  of  a  knight,  I  could  have  sworn  that 
it  was  the  gritting  of  this  vagabond's  teeth." 

Hereupon  the  dwarf  laughed  (the  king  was  too  confirmed  a 
joker  to  object  to  any  one's  laughing),  and  displayed  a  set  of 
large,  powerful,  and  very  repulsive  teeth.  Moreover,  he  avowed 
his  perfect  willingness  to  swallow  as  much  wine  as  desired.  The' 
monarch  was  pacified;  and  having  drained  another  bumper  with 
no  very  perceptible  ill  effect,  Hop-Frog  entered  at  once,  and  with 
spirit,  into  the  plans  for  the  masquerade. 

"  I  cannot  tell  what  was  the  association  of  idea,"  observed  Le, 
very  tranquilly,  and  as  if  he  had  nevor  tasted  wine  in  his  life,  "  but 


456  HOP- FROG. 

just  after  your  majesty  had  struck  the  girl  and  thrown  the 
in  her  face — just  after  your  majesty  had  done  this,  and  while  the 
parrot  was  making  that  odd  noise  outside  the  window,  there  came 
into  my  mind  a  capital  diversion — one  of  my  own  country  frolic3 
— often  enacted  among  us,  at  our  masquerades :  but  here  it  will 
be  new  altogether.  Unfortunately,  however,  it  requires  a  company 
of  eight  persons,  and — " 

"  Here  we  are  /"  cried  the  king,  laughing  at  his  acute  discov- 
ery of  the  coincidence ;  "  eight  to  a  fraction — I  and  my  seven 
ministers.  Come  !  what  is  the  diversion  ?" 

"We  call  it,"  replied  the  .cripple,  "the  Eight  Chained  Ourang- 
Outangs,  and  it  really  is  excellent  sport  if  well  enacted." 

"  We  will  enact  it,"  remarked  the  king,  drawing  himself  up,  and 
lowering  his  eyelids. 

"The  beauty  of  the  game,"  continued  Hop-Frog,  "lies  in  the 
fright  it  occasions  among  the  women." 

"  Capital !"  roared  in  chorus  the  monarch  and  his  ministry. 

"/will  equip  you  as  ourang-outangs,"  proceeded  the  dwarf; 
*"  \eave  all  that  to  me.  The  resemblance  shall  be  so  striking,  that 
the  company  of  masqueraders  will  take  you  for  real  beasts — and 
of  course,  they  will  be  as  much  terrified  as  astonished." 

"  0,  this  is  exquisite !"  exclaimed  the  king.  "  Hop-Frog  !  I 
will  make  a  man  of  you." 

"  The  chains  are  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  the  confusion,  by 
their  jangling.  You  are  supposed  to  have  escaped,  en  masst, 
from  your  keepers.  Your  majesty  cannot  conceive  the  effect  pro 
duced,  at  a  masquerade,  by  eight  chained  ourang-outangs,  imag- 
ined to  be  real  ones  by  most  of  the  company ;  and  rushing  in 
with  savage  cries,  among  the  crowd  of  delicately  and  gorgeously 
habited  men  and  women.  The  contrast  is  inimitable." 

"  It  must  be,"  said  the  king :  and  the  council  arose  hurriedly 
(as  it  was  growing  late),  to  put  in  execution  the  scheme  of  Hop- 
Frog. 

Hii.  mode  of  equipping  the  party  as  ourang-outangs  was  very 
simple,  but  effective  enough  for  his  purposes.  The  animals  in 
Question  had.  at  the  epoch  of  my  story,  very  rarely  been  seen  in 
any  part  of  the  civilized  world ;  and  as  the  imitations  made  by 
the  dwarf  were  sufficiently  beast-like  and  more  than  sufficiently 


HOP-FROG.  457 

hideous,   tlieir  truthfulness  to  nature  was  thus  thought   to  be 
secured. 

The  king  and  his  ministers  were  first  encased  in  tight- fitting 
stockinet  shirts  and  drawers.  They  were  then  saturated  with  tar 
At  this  stage  of  the  process,  some  one  of  the  party  suggested 
feathers ;  but  the  suggestion  was  at  once  overruled  by  the  dwarf, 
who  soon  convinced  the  eight,  by  ocular  demonstration,  that  the 
hair  of  such  a  brute  as  the  ourang-outang  was  much  more  effi- 
ciently represented  by  flax,  A  thick  coating  of  the  latter  was 
accordingly  plastered  upon  the  coating  of  tar.  A  long  chain  was 
now  procured.  First,  it  was  passed  about  the  waist  of  the  king, 
and  tied ;  then  about  another  of  the  party,  and  also  tied ;  then 
about  all  successively,  in  the  same  manner.  When  this  chaining 
arrangement  was  complete,  and  the  party  stood  as  far  apart  from 
each  other  as  possible,  they  formed  a  circle;  and  to  make  all 
things  appear  natural.  Hop-Frog  passed  the  residue  of  the  chain, 
in  two  diameters,  at  right  angles,  across  the  circle,  after  the  fashion 
adopted,  at  the  present  day,  by  those  who  capture  Chimpanzees, 
or  other  large  apes,  in  Borneo. 

Tb.e  grand  saloon  in  which  the  masquerade  was  to  take  place, 
was  ,-j  circular  room,  very  lofty,  and  receiving  the  light  of  the  sun 
only  through  a  single  window  at  top.  At  night  (the  season  for 
which  the  apartment  was  especially  designed,)  it  was  illuminated 
principally  by  a  large  chandelier,  depending  by  a  chain  from  the 
centie  of  the  sky-light,  and  lowered,  or  elevated,  by  means  of  a 
counter-balance  as  usual ;  but  (in  order  not  to  look  unsightly)  this 
laf  ter  passed  outside  the  cupola  and  over  the  roof. 

The  arrangements  of  the  room  had  been  left  to  Trippetta's 
an  peri  n  tendance ;  but,  in  some  particulars,  it  seems,  she  had  been 
guid  id  by  the  calmer  judgment  of  her  friend  the  dwarf.  At  his 
suggestion  it  was  that,  on  this  occasion,  the  chandelier  was  remo- 
val. Its  waxen  drippings  (which,  in  weather  so  warm,  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  prevent,)  would  have  been  seriously  detrimen 
tal  to  the  rich  dresses  of  the  guests,  who,  on  account  of  the  crowd 
ed  state  of  the  saloon,  could  not  all  be  expected  to  keep  from  out 
its  centre — that  is  to  say,  from  under  the  chandelier.  Additiona' 
sconces  were  set  in  various  parts  of  the  hall,  out  of  the  way ;  and 


458  HOP-FROG. 

a  flambeau,  emitting  sweet  odor,  was  placed  in  the  right  hand  of 
aarh  of  the  Caryaides  that  stood  against  the  wall — some  fifty  01 
sixty  altogether. 

The  eight  ourang-outangs,  taking  Hop-Frog's  advice,  waited 
patiently  until  midnight  (when  the  room  was  thoroughly  filled 
vriti.  masqueraders)  before  making  their  appearance.  No  soocer 
had  the  clock  ceased  striking,  however,  than  they  rushed,  or  ra- 
ther rolled  in,  all  together — for  the  impediment  of  their  chains 
caused  most  of  the  party  to  fall,  and  all  to  stumble  as  they  en- 
tered. 

The  excitement  among  the  masqueraders  was  prodigious,  and 
filled  the  heart  of  the  king  with  glee.  As  had  been  anticipated, 
*here  were  not  a  few  of  the  guests  who  supposed  the  ferocious- 
looluug  creatures  to  be  beasts  of  some  kind  in  reality,  if  not  pre- 
cisely ourang-outangs.  Many  of  the  women  swooned  with  affright; 
and  had  not  the  king  taken  the  precaution  to  exclude  all  weapons 
from  the  saloon,  his  party  might  soon  have  expiated  their  frolic 
in  their  blood.  As  it  was,  a  general  rush  was  made  for  the  doors:' 
but  the  king  had  ordered  them  to  be  locked  immediately  upou 
his  entrance ;  and,  at  the  dwarf's  suggestion,  the  keys  had  been 
deposited  with  him. 

While  the  tumult  was  at  its  height,  and  each  masquerader 
attentive  only  to  his  own  safety — (for,  in  fact,  there  was  much 
real  danger  from  the  pressure  of  the  excited  crowd,) — the  chain 
by  which  the  chandelier  ordinarily  hung,  and  which  had  boej; 
drawn  up  on  its  removal,  might  have  been  seen  very  gradually 
to  descend,  until  its  hooked  extremity  came  within  three  feet  of 
the  floor. 

Soon  after  this,  the  king  and  his  seven  friends,  having  reeled 
about  the  hall  in  all  directions,  found  themselves,  at  length,  iu 
its  centre,  and,  of  course,  in  immediate  contact  with  the  chain. 
While  they  were  thus  situated,  the  dwarf,  who  had  followed 
•Closely  at  their  heels,  inciting  them  to  keep  up  the  commotion, 
took  hold  of  their  own  chain  at  the  intersection  of  the  two  por- 
tions which  crossed  the  circle  diametrically  and  at  right  angles. 
Here,  with  the  rapidity  of  thought,  he  inserted  the  hook  from 
which  the  chandelier  had  been  wont  to  depend;  and,  in  an  instant, 


HOP-FROG.  459 

by  some  unseen  agency,  the  chandelier-chain  was  drawn  so  far 
upward  as  to  take  the  hook  out  of  reach,  and,  as  an  inevitable 
consequence,  to  drag  the  ourang-outangs  together  in  close  con- 
nection, and  face  to  face. 

The  masqueraders,  by  this  time,  had  recovered,  in  some  measure, 
from  their  alarm;  and,  beginning  to  regard  the  whole  matter  as  a 
well-contrived  pleasantry,  set  up  a  loud  shout  of  laughter  at  the 
predicament  of  the  apes. 

"Leave  them  to  me!"  now  screamed  Hop-Frog,  his  shrill  voice 
making  itself  easily  heard  through  all  the  din.  ''  Leave  them  to 
iiie.  I  fancy  /  know  them.  If  I  can  only  get  a  good  look  at 
them,  /  can  soon  tell  who  they  are." 

Here,  scrambling  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  he  managed  to 
get  to  the  wall ;  when,  seizing  a  flambeau  from  one  of  the  Carya- 
ides,  he  returned,  as  he  went,  to  the  centre  of  the  room — leaped, 
with  the  agility  of  a  monkey,  upon  the  king's  head — and  thence 
clambered  a  few  feet  up  the  chain — holding  down  the  torch  to 
examine  the  group  of  ourang-outangs,  and  still  screaming,  "  /  shall 
soon  find  out  who  they  are  !" 

And  now,  while  the  whole  assembly  (the  apes  included)  were 
convulsed  with  laughter,  the  jester  suddenly  uttered  a  shrill  whis- 
tle ;  when  the  chain  flew  violently  up  for  about  thirty  feet — drag- 
ging with  it  the  dismayed  and  struggling  ourang-outangs,  and 
leaving  them  suspended  in  mid-air  between  the  sky-light  and  the 
floor.  Hop-Frog,  clinging  to  the  chain  as  it  rose,  still  maintained 
his  relative  position  in  respect  to  the  eight  maskers,  and  still  (as 
if  nothing  were  the  matter)  continued  to  thrust  his  torch  down 
towards  them,  as  though  endeavoring  to  discover  who  they  were. 

So  thoroughly  astonished  were  the  whole  company  at  this  ascent, 
that  a  dead  silence,  of  about  a  minute's  duration,  ensued.  It  was 
broken  by  just  such  a  low,  harsh,  grating  sound,  as  had  before 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  king  and  his  councillors,  when  tho 
former  threw  the  wine  in  the  face  of  Trippetta.  But,  on  the  pres- 
cut  occasion,  there  could  be  no  question  as  to  u'hence  the  sound 
issu.-d.  It  came  from  the  fang-like  teeth  of  the  dwarf,  who  ground 
them  and  gnashed  them  as  he  foamed  at  the  mouth,  and  glared, 
with  an  expression  of  maniacal  rage,  into  the  upturned  counte- 
nances of  the  king  and  his  seven  companions. 


4GO  HOP-FROG. 

"AL,  ha!"  said  at  length  the  infuriated  jester.  "Ah,  ha!  1 
begin  to  see  who  these  people  are,  now !"  Here,  pretending  to 
scrutinize  the  king  more  closely,  he  held  the  flambeau  to  the  flaxen 
coat  which  enveloped  him,  and  which  instantly  burst  into  a  sheet 
of  vivid  flame.  In  less  than  half  a  minute  the  whole  eight  ourang- 
outangs  were  blazing  fiercely,  amid  the  shrieks  of  the  multitude 
who  gazed  at  them  from  below,  horror-stricken,  and  without  the 
power  to  render  them  the  slightest  assistance. 

At  length  the  flames,  suddenly  increasing  in  virulence,  forced 
the  jester  to  climb  higher  up  the  chain,  to  be  out  of  their  reach ; 
and,  as  he  made  this  movement,  the  crowd  again  sank,  for  a  brief 
instant,  into  silence.  The  dwarf  seized  his  opportunity,  and  once 
more  spoke : 

"  I  now  see  distinctly"  he  said,  "  what  manner  of  people  these 
maskers  are.  They  are  a  great  king  and  his  seven  privy-council- 
lors— a  king  who  does  not  scruple  to  strike  a  defenceless  girl,  and 
his  seven  councillors  who  abet  him  in  the  <~>iitrage.  As  for  mv- 
self,  I  am  simply  Hop-Frog,  the  jester — and  this  is  my  last  jest." 

Owing  to  the  high  combustibility  of  both  the  flax  and  the  tar 
to  which  it  adhered,  the  dwarf  had  scarcely  made  an  end  of  his 
brief  speech  before  the  work  of  vengeance  was  complete.  The 
eight  corpses  swung  in  their  chains,  a  fetid,  blackened,  hideous, 
and  indistinguishable  mass.  The  cripple  hurled  his  torch  at 
them,  clambered  leisurely  to  the  ceiling,  and  disappeared  through 
the  sky-light. 

It  is  supposed  that  Trippetta,  stationed  on  the  roof  of  the  sa- 
loon, had  been  the  accomplice  of  her  friend  in  his  fiery  revenge, 
and  that,  together,  they  effected  their  escape  to  their  own  country: 
for  neither  was  seen  again. 


FOUR   BEASTS   IN    ONE; 

THE    HOMO-CAMELEOPARD. 


Cbacun  a  ses  vertuw. 

Crebilloris  Xtrxet. 


ANTTOCHUS  EPIPHA.NES  is  very  generally  looked  upon  as  the 
Gog  of  the  prophet  Ezekiel.  This  honor  is,  however,  more  pro^ 
perly  attributable  to  Cambyses,  the  son  of  Cyrus.  And,  indeed, 
the  character  of  the  Syrian  monarch  does  by  no  means  stand  in 
need  of  any  adventitious  embellishment.  His  accession  to  the 
throne,  or  rather  his  usurpation  of  the  sovereignty,  a  hundred 
and  seventy -one  years  before  the  coming  of  Christ;  his  attempt- 
to  plunder  the  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus ;  his  implacable  hos- 
tility to  the  Jews;  his  pollution  of  the  Holy  of  Holies;  and  his 
miserable  death  at  Taba,  after  a  tumultuous  reign  of  eleven  years, 
are  circumstances  of  a  prominent  kind,  and  therefore  more  gene- 
rally noticed  by  the  historians  of  his  time,  than  the  impious,  dast- 
ardly, cruel,  silly  and  whimsical  achievements  which  make  up  th« 
sum  total  of  his  private  life  and  reputation. 

*  *          *          *  *.**** 

Let  us  suppose,  gentle  reader,  that  it  is  now  the  year  of  the 
world  three  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty,  and  let  us,  for  a 
few  minutes,  imagine  ourselves  at  that  most  grotesque  habitation 
of  man,  the  remarkable  city  of  Antioch.  To  be  sure  there  were, 
in  Syria  and  other  countries,  sixteen  cities  of  that  appellation, 
besides  the  one  to  which  I  more  particularly  allude.  But  ours  is 
that  which  went  by  the  name  of  Antiochia  Epidaphne,  from  its 
vicinity  to  the  little  village  of  Daphne,  where  stood  a  temple  to 
that  divinity.  It  was  built  (although  about  this  matter  there  is 


4«2  FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE. 

eoine  dispute)  by  Seleucus  Nicanor,  the  first  king  of  the  country 
after  Alexander  the  Great,  in  memory  of  his  father  Antioctns. 
and  became  immediately  the  residence  of  the  Syrian  monarchy 
In  the  flourishing  times  of  the  Roman  Empire,  it  was  the  ordi 
nary  station  of  the  prefect  of  the  eastern  provinces ;  and  many 
of  the  emperors  of  the  queen  city,  (among  whom  may  be  men- 
tioned especially,  Verus  and  Valens,)  spent  here  the  greater  part 
rf  their  time.  But  I  perceive  we  have  arrived  at  the  city  itself. 
Let  us  ascend  this  battlement,  and  throw  our  eyes  upon  the  town, 
and  neighboring  country. 

"  What  broad  and  rapid  river  is  that  which  forces  its  way,  with 
innumerable  falls,  through  the  mountainous  wilderness,  and  finally 
through  the  wilderness  of  buildings?" 

That  is  the  Orontes,  arid  it  is  the  only  water  in  sight,  with  the 
exception  of  the  Mediterranean,  which  stretches  like  a  broad  mir- 
ror, about  twelve  miles  off  to  the  southward.  Every  one  has  seen 
the  Mediterranean ;  but  let  me  tell  you,  there  are  few  who  have 
had  a  peep  at  Antioch.  By  few,  I  mean,  few  who,  like  you  and 
me,  have  had,  at  the  same  time,  the  advantages  of  a  modern  edu- 
cation. Therefore  cease  to  regard  that  sea,  and  give  your  whole 
attention  to  the  mass  of  houses  that  lie  beneath  us.  You  will 
remember  that  it  is  now  the  year  of  the  world  three  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  thirty.  Were  it  later — for  example,  were  it 
the  year  of  our  Lord  eighteen  hundred  and  forty-five,  we  should 
be  deprived  of  this  extraordinary  spectacle.  In  the  nineteenth 
century  Antioch  is — that  is  to  say,  Antioch  will  be — in  a  lament- 
able state  of  decay.  It  will  have  been,  by  that  time,  totally  de- 
Btroyed,  at  three  different  periods,  by  three  successive  earthquakes. 
Indeed,  to  say  the  truth,  what  little  of  its  former  self  may  then 
remain,  will  be  found  in  so  desolate  and  ruinous  a  state  that  the 
patriarch  shall  have  removed  his  residence  to  Damascus.  This  is 
well.  I  see  you  profit  by  my  advice,  and  are  making  the  most 
of  your  time  in  inspecting  the  premises — in 


-satisfying  your  eyes 


"With  the  memorials  ami  the  things  of  fume 
That  most  renown  this  city. 

I  beg  pardon;   I  had  forgotten  that  Shakspeare  will  not  flourish 


FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE.  4fi;} 

for  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty  years  to  come.     But  does  not,  the 
appearance  of  Epidaphne  justify  me  in  calling  it  grotesque  ? 

"  It  is  well  fortified ;  and  in  this  respect  is  as  much  indebted  to 
nature  as  to  art." 

Very  true. 

"  There  are  a  prodigious  number  of  stately  palaces." 

There  are. 

"And  the  numerous  temples,  sumptuous  and  magnificent,  may 
bear  comparison  with  the  most  lauded  of  antiquity." 

All  this  I  must  acknowledge.  Still  there  is  an  infinity  of  mud 
huts,  and  abominable  hovels.  We  cannot  help  perceiving  abun- 
dance of  filth  in  every  kennel,  and,  were  it  not  for  the  overpower- 
ing fumes  of  idolatrous  incense,  I  have  no  doubt  we  should  find 
a  most  intolerable  stench.  Did  you  ever  behold  streets  so  insuffer- 
ably narrow,  or  houses  so  miraculously  tall  ?  What  a  gloom  their 
shadows  cast  upon  the  ground !  It  is  well  the  swinging  lamps 
in  those  endless  colonnades  are  kept  burning  throughout  the  day ; 
we  should  otherwise  have  the  darkness  of  Egypt  in  the  time  of 
her  desolation. 

"  It  is  certainly  a  strange  place  !  What  is  the  meaning  of  yon- 
der singular  building  ?  See  !  it  towers  above  all  others,  and  lies 
to  the  eastward  of  what  I  take  to  be  the  royal  palace !" 

That  is  the  new  Temple  of  the  Sun,  who  is  adored  in  Syria 
under  the  title  of  Elah  Gabalah.  Hereafter  a  very  notorious  Ro- 
man Emperor  will  institute  this  worship  in  Rome,  and  thence  de 
rive  a  cognomen,  Heliogabalus.  I  dare  say  you  would  like  to 
take  a  peep  at  the  divinity  of  the  temple.  You  need  not  look  up 
at  the  heavens ;  his  Sunship  is  not  there — at  least  not  the  Sunship 
adored  by  the  Syrians.  That  deity  will  be  found  in  the  interior 
of  yonder  building.  He  is  worshipped  under  the  figure  of  a  large 
stone  pillar  terminating  at  the  summit  in  a  cone  or  pyramid^ 
whereby  is  denoted  Fire. 

"  Hark  ! — behold ! — who  can  those  ridiculous  beings  be,  half 
naked,  with  their  faces  painted,  shouting  and  gesticulating  to  the 
rabble  ?" 

Some  few  are  mountebanks.  .Others  more  particularly  belong 
to  the  race  of  philosophers.  The  greatest  portion,  however — those 
especially  who  belabor  the  populace  with  clubs — are  the  principal 


464  FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE. 

courtiers  of  the  palace,  executing,  as  in  duty  bound,  some  lauda- 
ble comicality  of  the  king's. 

"  But  what  have  we  here  ?  Heavens  !  the  town  is  swarming 
with  wild  beasts  !  How  terrible  a  spectacle  ! — how  dangerous  a 
peculiarity  !" 

Terrible,  if  you  please ;  but  not  ia  the  least  degree  dangerous. 
Each  animal,  if  you  will  take  the  pains  to  observe,  is  following, 
very  quietly,  in  the  wake  of  its  master.  Some  few,  to  be  sure,  arc 
led  with  a  rope  about  the  neck,  but  these  are  chiefly  the  lesser 
or  timid  species.  The  lion,  the  tiger,  and  the  leopard  are  entirelj 
without  restraint.  They  have  been  trained  without  difficulty  to 
their  present  profession,  and  attend  upon  their  respective  owners 
in  the  capacity  of  valets-de-chambre.  It  is  true,  there  are  occa 
sions  when  Nature  asserts  her  violated  dominion  ; — but  then  the 
devouring  of  a  man-at-arms,  or  the  throttling  of  a  consecrated 
bull,  is  a  circumstance  of  too  little  moment  to  be  more  than  hint- 
ed at  in  Epidaphne. 

"But  what  extraordinary  tumult  do  I  hear?  Surely  this  is  a 
loud  noise  even  for  Antioch !  It  argues  some  commotion  of  un- 
usual interest." 

Yes — undoubtedly.  The  king  has  ordered  some  novel  specta 
lie — some  gladiatorial  exhibition  at  the  Hippodrome — or  perhaps 
the  massacre  of  the  Scythian  prisoners — or  the  conflagration  of 
his  new  palace — or  the  tearing  down  of  a  handsome  temple — or, 
indeed,  a  bonfire  of  a  few  Jews.  The  uproar  increases.  Shouts 
of  laughter  ascend  the  skies.  The  air  becomes  dissonant  with 
wind  instruments,  and  horrible  with  the  clamor  of  a  million  throats. 
Let  us  descend,  for  the  love  of  fun,  and  see  what  is  going  on  ! 
This  way — be  careful  !  Here  we  are  in  the  principal  street,  which 
is  called  the  street  of  Timarchus.  The  sea  of  people  is  coming 
this  way,  and  we  shall  find  a  difficulty  in  stemming  the  tide.  They 
are  pouring  through  the  alley  of  Heraclides,  which  leads  directly 
from  the  palace — therefore  the  king  is  most  probably  among  the 
rioters.  Yes — I  hear  the  shouts  of  the  herald  proclaiming  his 
approach  in  the  pompous  phraseology  of  the  East.  We  shall 
have  a  glimpse  of  his  person  as  he  passes  by  the  temple  of  A?hi- 
ncah.  Let  us  ensconce  ourselves  in  the  vestibule  of  the  sanctuary; 
he  will  be  here  anon.  In  the  meantime  let  us  survey  this  image. 


FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE.  465 

What  is  it?  Oh,  it  is  the  god  Ashimah  in  pioper  person.  You 
perceive,  however,  that  he  is  neither  a  lamb,  nor  a  goat,  nor  a 
satyr ;  neither  has  he  much  resemblance  to  the  Pan  of  the  Arca- 
dians. Yet  all  these  appearances  have  been  given — I  beg  par- 
don— will  be  given — by  the  learned  of  future  ages,  to  the  Ashimah 
of  the  Syrians.  Put  on  your  spectacles),  and  tell  me  what  it  is. 
What  is  it  ? 

"  Bless  me  !  it  is  an  ape  !" 

True — a  baboon  ;  but  by  no  means  the  less  a  deity.  His  name 
B  a  derivation  of  the  Greek  Simia — what  great  fools  are  antiqua- 
rians !  But  see  ! — see  ! — yonder  scampers  a  ragged  little  urchin. 
Where  is  he  going  ?  What  is  he  bawling  about  ?  What  does 
he  say  ?  Oh  !  he  says  the  king  is  coming  in  triumph  ;  that  he  is 
dressed  in  state ;  that  he  has  just  finished  putting  to  death,  with 
his  own  hand,  a  thousand  chained  Israelitish  prisoners !  For  thia 
exploit  the  ragamuffin  is  lauding  him  to  the  skies  !  Hark  !  here 
comes  a  troop  of  a  similar  description.  They  have  made  a  Latin 
hvmn  upon  the  valor  of  the  king,  and  are  singing  it  as  they  go : 

Mille,  mille,  mille, 

Mille,  mille,  mille, 

Decollavimus,  unus  homo  1 

Mille,  mille,  mille,  mille,  decollavimus  I 

Mille,  mille,  mille ! 

Vivat  qui  mille  mille  occidit  1 

Tantum  vini  habet  nemo 

Quantum  sanguinis  effudit  1* 

Which  may  be  thus  paraphrased  : 

A  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand, 
A  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand, 
We,  with  one  warrior,  have  slain  ! 
A  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand. 
Sing  a  thousand  over  again  ! 
Soho ! — let  us  sing 
Long  life  to  our  king, 
Who  knocked  over  a  thousand  so  fine  ! 

*  Flavius  Vospicus  says,  that  the  hymn  here  introduced,  was  sung  by 
the  rabLle  upon  the  occasion  of  Aurelian,  in  the  Sarmatic  war,  having  slain 
with  his  own  hand,  nine  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  enemy. 


406  FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE. 

Soho  ! — let  us  roar, 
He  has  given  us  more 
Red  gallons  of  gore 
Than  all  Syria  can  furnish  of  wine  1 

"Do  you  hear  that  flourish  of  trumpets  ?" 

Yes — the  king  is  coming !  See !  the  people  are  aghast  with 
admiration,  and  lift  up  their  eyes  to  the  heavens  in  reverence ! 
He  comes  ! — he  is  coming ! — there  he  is ! 

"  Who  ? — where  ? — the  king  ? — I  do  not  behold  him ; — cannot 
Bay  that  I  perceive  him." 

Then  you  must  be  blind. 

"  Very  possible.  Still  I  see  nothing  but  a  tumultuous  mob  of 
idiots  and  madmen,  who  are  busy  in  prostrating  themselves  be- 
fore a  gigantic  cameleopard,  and  endeavoring  to  obtain  a  kiss  of 
the  animal's  hoofs.  See  !  the  beast  has  very  justly  kicked  one  of 
the  rabble  over — and  another — and  another — and  another.  In 
deed,  I  cannot  help  admiring  the  animal  for  the  excellent  use  ho 
is  making  of  his  feet." 

Rabble,  indeed  ! — why  these  are  the  noble  and  free  citizens  of 
Epidaphne !  Beast,  did  you  say  ? — take  care  that  you  are  not 
overheard.  Do  you  not  perceive  that  the  animal  has  the  visage 
of  a  man  ?  Why,  my  dear  sir,  that  cameleopard  is  no  other  than 
Antiochus  Epiphanes — Antiochus  the  Illustrious,  King  of  Syria, 
and  the  most  potent  of  all  the  autocrats  of  the  East !  It  is  true, 
that  he  is  entitled,  at  times,  Antiochus  Epimanes — Antiochus  the 
madman — but  that  is  because  all  people  have  not  the  capacity  to 
appreciate  his  merits.  It  is  also  certain  that  he  is  at  present  en- 
sconced in  the  hide  of  a  beast,  and  is  doing  his  best  to  play  the 
part  of  a  cameleopard ;  but  this  is  done  for  the  better  sustaining 
his  dignity  as  king.  Besides,  the  monarch  is  of  gigantic  stature, 
and  the  dress  is  therefore  neither  unbecoming  nor  over  large.  We 
may,  however,  presume  he  would  not  have  adopted  it  but  for 
some  occasion  of  especial  state.  Such,  you  will  allow,  is  the  mas- 
sacre of  a  thousand  Jews.  With  how  superior  a  dignity  the  mon- 
arch perambulates  on  all  fours !  His  tail,  you  perceive,  is  held 
aloft  by  his  two  principal  concubines,  Elline  and  Argelais  ;  and  his 
whole  appearance  would  be  infinitely  prepossessing,  were  it  not 
for  the  protruberance  of  his  eyes,  which  will  certainly  start  out  of 


FOUll  BEASTS  IN  ONE.  467 

his  head,  and  the  queer  color  of  his  face,  which  has  become  non- 
descript from  the  quantity  of  wine  he  has  swallowed.  Let  us  fol- 
low him  to  the  hippodrome,  whither  he  is  proceeding,  and  listen 
to  the  song  of  triumph  which  he  is  commencing : 

Who  is  king  but  Epiphanes  ? 

Say — do  you  know  ? 
Who  is  king  but  Epiphanes  ? 

Bravo  ! — bravo ! 
There  is  none  but  Epiphanes, 

No — there  is  none  : 
So  tear  down  the  temples, 

And  put  out  the  sun  ! 

Well  and  strenuously  sung !  The  populace  are  hailing  him 
"  Prince  of  Poets,"  as  well  as  "Glory  of  the  East,"  "Delight  of  the 
Universe,"  and  "  most  remarkable  of  Cameleopards."  They  have 
encored  his  effusion,  and — do  you  hear? — he  is  singing  it  over 
again.  When  he  arrives  at  the  hippodrome,  he  will  be  crowned 
with  the  poetic  wreath,  in  anticipation  of  his  victory  at  the 
approaching  Olympics. 

"  But,  good  Jupiter !  what  is  the  matter  in  the  crowd  behind 
us?" 

Behind  us,  did  you  say  ? — oh  !  ah  ! — I  perceive.  My  friend,  it 
is  well  that  you  spoke  in  time.  Let  us  get  into  a  place  of  safety 
as  soon  as  possible.  Here  ! — let  us  conceal  ourselves  in  the  arch 
of  this  aqueduct,  and  I  will  inform  you  presently  of  the  origin  of 
the  commotion.  It  has  turned  out  as  I  have  been  anticipating. 
The  singular  appearance  of  the  cameleopard  with  the  head  of  a 
man,  has,  it  seems,  given  offence  to  the  notions  of  propriety  enter- 
tained in  general,  by  the  wild  animals  domesticated  in  the  city. 
A  mutiny  has  been  the  result ;  and,  as  is  usual  upon  such  occa- 
sions, all  human  efforts  will  be  of  no  avail  in  quelling  the  mob. 
Several  of  the  Syrians  have  already  been  devoured  ;  but  the  gen- 
eral voice  of  the  four-footed  patriots  seems  to  be  for  eating  up  the 
cameleopard.  "  The  Prince  of  Poets,"  therefore,  is  upon  his  hinder 
legs,  running  for  his  life.  His  courtiers  have  have  left  him  in  the 
lurch,  and  his  concubines  have  followed  so  excellent  an  exam- 
ple. "Delight  of  the  Universe,"  thou  art  in  a  sad  predicament! 
"  Glory  of  the  East,"  thou  art  in  danger  of  mastication  !  There- 


468  FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONR 

fore  never  regard  so  piteously  thy  tail ;  it  will  undoubtedly  be 
draggled  in  the  mud,  and  for  this  there  is  no  help.  Look  not 
behind  thee,  then,  at  its  unavoidable  degradation ;  but  take 
courage,  ply  thy  legs  with  vigor,  and  scud  for  the  hippodrome ' 
Remember  that  thou  art  Antiochus  Epiphanes.  Antiochus  the 
Illustrious !— also  "Prince  of  Poets,"  "Glory  of  the  East,"  "De- 
light of  the  Universe,"  and  "  most  Remarkable  of  Cameleopards !" 
Heavens!  what  a  power  of  speed  thou  art  displaying!  What  a 
capacity  for  leg-bail  thou  art  developing  !  Run,  Prince  ! — Bravo, 
Epiphanes  !  —  Well  done,  Cameleopard  !  —  Glorious  Antiochus! 
He  runs  ! — he  leaps  ! — he  flies  !  Like  an  arrow  from  a  catapult 
he  approaches  the  hippodrome  !  He  leaps  ! — he  shrieks  ! — he  is 
there  !  This  is  well ;  for  hadst  thou,  "  Glory  of  the  East,"  been 
half  a  second  longer  in  reaching  the  gates  of  the  Amphitheatre, 
there  is  not  a  bear's  cub  in  Epidaphne  that  would  not  have  had  a 
nibble  at  thy  carcass.  Let  us  be  off — let  us-take  our  departure! — 
for  we  shaH  find  our  delicate  modern  ears  unable  to  endure  the 
vast  uproar  which  is  about  to  commence  in  celebration  of  the 
king's  escape  !  Listen  !  it  has  already  commenced.  See  ! — the 
whole  town  is  topsy-turvy. 

"  Surely  this  is  the  most  populous  city  of  the  East !  What  a 
wilderness  of  people!  what  a  jumble  of  all  ranks  and  ages  !  what 
a  multiplicity  of  sects  and  nations  !  what  a  variety  of  costumes, 
what  a  Babel  of  languages  !  what  a  screaming  of  beasts  !  what  a 

o        o  o 

tinkling  of  instruments  !  what  a  parcel  of  philosophers !" 

Come  let  us  be  off! 

"  Stay  a  moment !  I  see  a  vast  hubbub  in  the  hippodrome  ? 
what  is  the  meaning  of  it  I  beseech  you !" 

"  That  ? — oh  nothing  !  The  noble  and  free  citizens  of  Epi- 
daphne being,  as  they  declare,  well  satisfied  of  the  faith,  valor, 
wisdom,  and  divinity  of  their  king,  and  having,  moreover,  been 
eye-witnesses  of  his,  late  superhuman  agility,  do  think  it  no  more 
than  their  duty  to  invest  his  brows  (in  addition  to  the  poetic 
crown)  with  the  wreath  of  victory  in  the  foot-race — a  wreath  which 
it  is  evident  he  must  obtain  at  the  celebration  of  the  next  Olym- 
piad, and  which,  therefore,  they  now  give  him  in  advance 


WHY  THE  LITTLE  FRENCHMAN 

WEARS  HIS   HAND  IN  A  SLING. 


IT'S  on  my  wisiting  cards  sure  enough  (and  it's  them  that's  all 
o'  pink  satin  paper)  that  inny  gintleman  that  plases  may  behould 
the  intheristhin  words,  "  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt,  39 
Southampton  Row,  Russell  Square,  Parrish  o'  Bloomsbury."  And 
shud  ye  be  wantin  to  diskiver  who  is  the  pink  of  purliteness  quite, 
and  the  laider  of  the  hot  tun  in  the  houl  city  o'  Lonon — why  it's 
jist  mesilf.  And  fait  that  same  is  no  wonder  at  all  at  all,  (so  be 
plased  to  stop  curlin  your  nose,)  for  every  inch  o'  the  six  wakes 
that  I've  been  a  gintleman,  and  left  aff  wid  the  bog-throthing  to 
take  up  wid  the  Barronissy,  i'ts  Pathrick  that's  been  living  like  a 
houly  imperor,  and  gitting  the  iddication  and  the  graces.  Och ! 
and  would'nt  it  be  a  blessed  thing  for  your  sperrits  if  ye  cud  lay 
your  two  peepers  jist,  upon  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt, 
when  he  is  all  riddy  drissed  for  the  hopperer,  or  stipping  into  the 
Brisky  for  the  drive  into  the  Hyde  Park. — But  it's  the  iligant  big 
figgur  that  I  ave,  for  the  rason  o'  which  all  the  ladies  fall  in  love 
wid  me.  Isn't  it  my  own  swate  silf  row  that'll  missure  the  six 
fut,  and  the  three  inches  more  nor  that,  in  me  stockings,  and  that 
am  excadingly  will  proportioned  all  over  to  match?  And  is  it 
ralelly  more  than  the  three  fut  and  a  bit  that  there  is,  inny  how, 
of  the  little  oulcl  furrener  Frinchman  that  lives  jist  over  the  way, 
and  that's  a  oggling  and  a  goggling  the  houl  day,  (and  bad  luck 
to  him,)  at  the  purty  widdy  Misthress  Trade  that's  my  own  nixt 
dcor  neighbor,  (God  bliss  her)  and  a  most  particuller  frind  and 


470  WHY  THE  LITTLE  FRENCHMAN 

acquaintance?  You  percave  the  little  spalpeen  is  summatdown 
in  the  mouth,  and  wears  his  lift  hand  in  a  sling ;  and  it's  for  that 
same  thing,  by  yur  lave,  that  I'm  going  to  give  you  the  good 
rason. 

The  truth  of  the  houl  matter  is  jist  simple  enough ;  for  the 
very  first  day  that  I  com'd  from  Connaught,  and  showd  my  swate 
little  silf  in  the  strait  to  the  widdy,  who  was  looking  through  the 
windy,  it  was  a  gone  case  althegither  wid  the  heart  o'  the  purty 
Misthress  Trade.  I  percaved  it,  ye  see,  all  at  once,  and  no  mis- 
take, and  that's  God's  thruth.  First  of  all  it  was  up  wid  the  windy 
in  a  jiffy,  and  thin  she  threw  open  her  two  peepers  to  the  itmost, 
and  thin  it  was  a  little  gould  spy-glass  ih»t  she  clapped  tight  to 
one  o'  them,  and  divil  may  burn  me  if  it  did'nt  spake  to  me  as 
plain  as  a  peeper  cud  spake,  and  says  it,  through  the  spy-glass, 
"  Och  !  the  tip  o'  the  mornin  to  ye,  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Bar- 
ronitt,  mavourneen;  and  it's  a  nate  gintleman  that  ye  are,  sure 
enough,  and  it's  mesilf  and  me  forten  jist  that'll  be  at  yur  sarvice, 
dear,  inny  time  o'  day  at  all  at  all  for  the  asking."  And  it's  not 
mesilf  ye  wud  have  to  be  bate  in  the  purliteness ;  so  I  made  her  a 
bow  that  wud  ha  broken  yur  heart  althegither  to  behould,  and  thin 
I  pulled  aff  me  hat  with  a  flourish,  and  thin  I  winked  at  her  hard 
wid  both  eyes,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Thrue  for  you,  yer  a  swate  lit- 
tle crature,  Mrs.  Trade,  me  darlint,  and  I  wish  I  may  be  drownthed 
dead  in  a  bog,  if  it's  not  mesilf,  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt, 
that'll  make  a  houl  bushel  o'  love  to  yur  leddy-ship,  in  the  twink- 
ling o'  the  eye  of  a  Londonderry  purraty." 

And  it  was  the  nixt  mornin,  sure,  jist  as  I  was  making  up  me 
mind  whither  it  wouldn't  be  the  purlite  thing  to  sind  a  bit  o' 
writin  to  the  \viddy  by  way  of  a  love-litter,  when  up  cuir'd  the 
delivery  sarvant  wid  an  illigant  card,  and  he  tould  me  that  the 
name  on  it  (for  I  niver  cud  rade  the  copper-plate  printin  on  account 
of  being  lift  handed)  was  all  about  Mounseer,  the  Count,  A  Goose, 
Look-aisy,  Maiter-di-dauns,  and  that  the  houl  of  the  divilish  liogo 
was  the  spalpeeny  long  name  of  the  little  ould  furrener  Frinchman 
as  lived  over  the  way. 

And  jist  wid  that  in  cum'd  the  little  willian  himself,  and  thin  he 
made  me  a  broth  of  a  bow,  and  thin  he  said  he  had  ounly  taken 
the  liberty  of  doing  me  the  honor  of  the  giving  me  a  call,  and  thin 


WEARS  HIS  HAND  IN  A  SLING.  471 

ho  went  on  to  palaver  at  a  great  rate,  and  divil  the  bit  did  I  com- 
prehiud  what  he  wud  be  afther  the  tilling  me  at  all  at  all,  excipt- 
ing  and  saving  that  he  said  "  pully  wou,  woolly  wou,"  and  tould 
me,  among  a  bushel  o'  lies,  bad  luck  to  him,  that  he  was  mad  for 
the  love  o'  my  widdy  Misthress  Trade,  and  that  my  widely  Mrs. 
Trade  had  a  puncheon  for  him. 

At  the  hearin  of  this,  ye  may  swear,  though,  1  was  as  mad  as  a 
grasshopper,  but  I  remimbered  that  I  was  Sir  Pathrick  O'Graudi- 
son,  Barronitt,  and  that  it  wasn't  althegither  gentaal  to  lit  the 
anger  git  the  upper  hand  o'  the  purliteness,  so  I  made  light  o'  the 
matter  and  kipt  dark,  and  got  quite  sociable  wid  the  little  chap, 
and  afther  a  while  what  did  he  do  but  ask  me  to  go  wid  hirn  to  the 
widdy's,  saying  he  wud  give  me  the  feshionable  introduction  to 
her  leddyship. 

"  Is  it  there  ye  are  ?"  said  I  thin  to  mesilf,  "  and  it's  thrue  for 
you,  Pathrick,  that  ye're  the  fortuunittest  mortal  in  life.  We'll 
soon  see  now  whither  its  your  swate  silf,  or  whither  its  little  Moun- 
seer  Maiter-di-dauns,  that  Misthress  Trade  is  head  and  ears  in  the 
love  wid." 

Wid  that  we  wint  aff  to  the  widdy's,  next  door,  and  ye  may 
well  say  it  was  an  illigant  place ;  so  it  was.  There  was  a  carpet 
all  over  the  floor,  and  in  one  corner  there  was  a  forty-pinny  and  a 
jews-harp  and  the  divil  knows  what  ilse,  and  in  another  corner 
wis  a  sofy,  the  beautifullest  thing  in  all  natur,  and  sitting  on  the 
sofy,  sure  enough,  there  was  the  swate  little  angel,  Misthress 
Trade. 

"  The  tip  o'  the  morning  to  ye,"  says  I,  "  Mrs.  Trade,"  and  thin 
I  made  sich  an  iligant  obaysance  that  it  wud  ha  quite  althegither 
bewildered  the  brain  o'  ye. 

"Wully  woo,  pully  woo,  plump  in  the  mud,"  says  the  little 
furrenner  Frinchman,  "  and  sure  Mrs.  Trade,"  says  he,  that  he  did, 
"  isn't  this  gin^leman  here  jist  his  reverence  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandi- 
son,  Barronitt,  and  isn't  he  althegither  and  entirely  the- most  pur 
ticular  frind  and  acquintance  that  I  have  in  the  houl  world?" 

And  wid  that  the  widdy,  she  gits  up  from  the  sofy,  and  makes 
the  swatest  curtchy  nor  iver  was  seen;  and  thin  down  she  sits 
like  an  angel ;  and  thin,  by  the  powers,  it  was  that  little  spalpeen 
Mounseer  Maiter-di-dauus  that  plumped  his  silf  right  down  by  the 


4:72  WHY  THE  LITTLE  .FRENCHMAN 

right  side  of  her,  Och  hon !  I  ixpicted  the  two  eyes  o'  me  wad 
ha  cunrd  out  of  my  head  on  the  spot,  !•  was  so  dispirate  mad ! 
Howiver,  "  ]  >ait  who !"  says  I,  after  a  while.  "  Is  ii  there  ye  are, 
Moimseer  Maiter-di-dauns  ?"  and  so  down  I  plumped  on  the  lift 
side  of  her  leddyship,  to  be  aven  wid  the  willain.  Botheration  !  it 
wud  ha  done  your  heart  good  to  percave  the  illigant  double  wink 
that  I  gived  her  jist  thin  right  in  the  face  wid  both  eyes. 

But  the  little  ould  Frinchman  he  niver  beginned  to  suspict  mo 
at  all  at  all,  and  disperate  hard  it  was  he  made  the  love  to  hei 
leddyship.  "  Woully  wou,"  says  he,  "  Pully  wou,"  says  he, 
"  Plump  in  the  mud,"  says  he. 

"  That's  all  to  no  use,  Mounseer  Frog,  mavourneen,"  thinks  I ; 
and  I  talked  as  hard  and  as  fast  as  I  could  all  the  while,  and  throth 
it  was  mesilf  jist  that  divarted  her  leddyship  complately  and  in- 
tirely,  by  rasou  of  the  illigant  conversation  that  I  kipt  up  wid  her 
all  about  the  dear  bogs  of  Connaught.  And  by  and  by  she  gived 
me  such  a  swate  smile,  from  one  ind  of  her  mouth  to  the  ither, 
that  it  made  me  as  bould  as  a  pig,  and  I  jist  took  houlcl  of  the  ind 
of  her  little  finger  in  the  most  dillikittest  manner  in  natur,  looking 
at  her  all  the  while  out  o'  the  whites  of  my  eyes. 

And  then  ounly  percave  the  cuteness  of  the  swate  angel,  for  no 
sooner  did  she  obsarve  that  I  was  afther  the  squazing  of  her  flipper, 
than  she  up  wid  it  in  a  jiffy,  and  put  it  away  behind  her  back,  jist 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  Now  thin,  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  there's 
a  bitther  chance  for  ye,  mavourneen,  for  its  not  altogether  the  gen- 
taal  thing  to  be  afther  the  squazing  of  my  flipper  right  full  in  the 
sight  of  that  little  furrenner  Frinchman,  Mounseer  Maiter-di-dauns." 

Wid  that  I  giv'd  her  a  big  wink  jist  to  say,  "lit  Sir  Pathrick 
alone  for  the  likes  o'  them  thricks,"  and  thin  I  wint  aisy  to  work, 
and  you'd  have  died  wid  the  divarsion  to  behould  how  cliverly  I 
slipped  my  right  arm  betwane  the  back  o'  the  sofy,  and  the  back 
of  her  leddyship,  and  there,  sure  enough,  I  found  a  swate  little 
flipper  all  a  waiting  to  say,  "  the  tip  o'  the  mornin  to  ye,  Sir  Path- 
rick O'Grandison,  Barronitt."  And  wasn't  it  mesilf,  sure,  that  jist 
giv'd  it  the  laste  little  bit  of  a  squaze  in  the  world,  all  in  the  way 
of  a  commincement,  and  not  to  be  too  rough  wid  her  leddyship  ? 
and  och,  botheration,  wasn't  it  the  gentaalest  and  dilikittest  of  all 
the  little  squazes  tint  I  got  in  return  ?  "Blood  and  thunder,  Sir 


WEARS  HIS  HAND  IN  A  SLING.  473 

Pathrick,  mavoureen,"  thinks  I  to  myself,  "  fait  it's  jist  the  moth- 
er's son  of  you,  and  nobody  else  at  all  at  all,  that's  the  handsomest 
and  the  fortunittest  young  bogthrotter  that  ever  cum'd  out  of 
Connaught !"  And  wid  that  I  giv'd  the  flipper  a  big  squaze,  and 
a  big  squaze  it  was,  by  the  powers,  that  her  leddyship  giv'd  to  me 
back.  But  it  would  ha  split  the  seven  sides  of  you  wid  the  laffin 
to  behould,  jist  then  all  at  once,-the  censated  behavior  of  Moun- 
seer  Maiter-di-dauns.  The  likes  o'  sich  a  jabbering,  and  a  smirk- 
ing, and  a  parly -wouing  as  he  begin'd  wid  her  leddyship,  niver 
was  known  before  upon  arth  ;  and  divil  may  burn  me  if  it  wasn't 
me  own  very  two  peepers  that  cotch'd  him  tipping  her  the  wink 
out  of  one  eye.  Och  hon  ?  if  it  wasn't  mesilf  thin  that  was  mad 
as  a  Kilkenny  cat  I  shud  like  to  be  tould  who  it  was  ! 

"  Let  me  infarni  you,  Mounseer  Maiter-di-dauns,"  said  I,  as  pur- 
lite  as  iver  ye  seed,  "  that  it's  not  the  gintaal  thing  at  all  at  all, 
and  not  for  the  likes  o'  you  inny  how,  to  be  afther  the  oggling 
and  a  goggling  at  her  leddyship  in  that  fashion,"  and  jist  wid  that 
such  another  squaze  as  it  was  I  giv'd  her  flipper,  all  as  much  as  to 
say,  "  isn't  it  Sir  Pathrick  now,  my  jewel,  that'll  be  able  to  the 
protecting  o'  you,  my  darlint?"  and  then  there  cum'd  another 
squaze  back,  all  by  way  of  the  answer.  "  Thrue  for  you,  Sir  Path- 
rick," it  said  as  plain  as  iver  a  squaze  said  in  the  world,  "  Thrue 
for  you,  Sir  Pathrick,  mavourneen,  and  it's  a  proper  nate  gintle- 
man  ye  are — that  God's  truth,"  and  wid  that  she  opened  her  two 
beautiful  peepers  till  I  belaved  they  wud  ha  com'd  out  of  her  hid 
althegither  and  intirely,  and  she  looked  first  as  mad  as  a  cat  at 
Mounseer  Frog,  and  thin  as  smiling  as  all  out  o'  doors  at  mesilf. 

"  Thin,"  says  he-  ^he  willian,  "  Och  hon !  and  a  wolly-wou, 
pully-wou,"  and  then  wid  that  he  shoved  up  his  two  shoulders  till 
the  divil  the  bit  of  his  hid  was  to  be  diskivered,  and  then  he  let 
down  the  two  corners  of  his  purraty-trap,  and  thin  not  a  haporth 
more  of  the  satisfaction  could  I  git  out  o'  the  spalpeen. 

Belave  me,  my  jeAvel,  it  was  Sir  Pathrick  that  was  unrasonable 
mad  thin,  and  the  more  by  token  that  the  Frinchman  kept  an  wid 
his  winking  at  the  widdy ;  and  the  widdy  she  kipt  an  wid  the 
squazing  of  my  flipper,  as  much  as  to  say,  "At  him  again  Sir 
Pathrick  O'Grandison,  mavourneen  ;"  to  I  just  ripped  out  wid  a 
big  oath,  and  says  I, 


474  THE  LITTLE  FRENCHMAN. 

"  Ye  little  spalpeeny  frog  of  a  bog-throtting  son  of  a  bloody 
noun  !" — and  jist  thin  what  d'ye  think  it  was  that  her  le  Jdyship 
did  ?  Troth  she  jumped  up  from  the  sofy  as  if  she  was  bit,  and 
made  off  through  the  door,  while  I  turned  my  head  round  afther 
her,  in  a  complete  bewilderment  and  botheration,  and  followed  her 
wid  me  two  peepers.  You  percave  I  had  a  reason  of  my  own  for 
knowing  that  she  could'nt  git  down  the  stares  althegither  and  en- 
tirely ;  for  I  knew  very  well  that  I  had  hould  of  her  hand,  for  divil 
the  bit  had  I  iver  lit  it  go.  And  says  I, 

"  Isn't  it  the  laste  little  bit  of  a  mistake  in  the  world  that  ye've 
been  afther  the  making,  yer  leddyship  ?  Come  back  now,  that's  a 
darlint,  and  I'll  give  ye  yur  flipper.''  But  aff  she  wint  down  the 
stairs  like  a  shot,  and  then  I  turned  round  to  the  little  Frinch 
furrenner.  Och  lion  !  if  it  wasn't  his  spalpeeny  little  paw  that  I 
bad  hould  of  in  my  own — why  thin — thin  it  was'nt — that's  all. 

"  And  maybe  it  wasn't  mesilf  that  jist  died  then  outright  wid 
the  laffin,  to  behould  the  little  chap  when  he  found  out  that  it 
wasn't  the  widdy  at  all  at  all  that  he  had  hould  of  all  the  time,  but 
only  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison.  The  ould  divil  himself  niver  be- 
hild  sich  a  long  face  as  he  pet  an  !  As  for  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandi- 
Eon,  Barronitt,  it  wasn't  for  the  likes  of  his  riverence  to  be  afther 
the  minding  of  a  thrifle  of  a  mistake.  Ye  may  jist  say,  though 
(for  it's  God's  'thruth)  that  afore  I  lift  hould  of  the  flipper  of  the 
Bpalpeen,  (which  was  not  till  a*fther  her  leddyship's  futmen  had 
kicked  us  both  down  the  stairs,)  I  gived  it  such  a  nate  little  broth 
of  a  squaze,  as  made  it  all  up  into  raspberry  jam, 

"  Wouly-wou,"  says  he,  "  pully-wou,"  says  he — Cot  tarn  !" 

And  that's  jist  the  thruth  of  the  rason  why  he  wears  his  left 
hand  in  a  sling. 


BON-BON. 


Quand  un  bon  vin  meuble  mon  estomac, 

Je  suis  plus  savant  que  Balzac — 

Plus  sage  que  Pibrac ; 

Mon  bras  seul  faisant  1'attaque 

De  la  nation  Cossaque, 

La  mettroit  au  sac; 

De  Charon  Je  passerois  le  lac 

En  dormant  dans  son  bac ; 

J'irois  au  fier  Eac, 

Sans  one  mon  cceur  fit  tic  ni  tac, 

Presenter  du  tabac. 

French  Vaudeville. 

THAT  Pierre  Bon-Bon  was  a  restaurateur  of  uncommon  quali- 
fications, no  man  who,  during  the  reign  of ,  frequented  the 

little  Cafe  in  the  cul-de-sac  Le  Febvre  at  Rouen,  will,  I  imagine, 
feel  himself  at  liberty  to  dispute.  That  Pierre  Bon-Bon  was,  in 
an  equal  degree,  skilled  in  the  philosophy  of  that  period  is,  I  pre- 
sume, still  more  especially  undeniable.  His  pates  a  la  /ozs(were 
beyond  doubt  immaculate ;  but  what  pen  can  do  justice  to  his 
essays  sur  la  Nature — his  thoughts  sur  VAme — his  observations 
sur  F  Esprit  ?  If  his  omelettes — if  his  fricandeaux  were  inestima- 
ble, what  litterateur  of  that  day  would  not  have  given  twice  as 
much  for  an  Idee  de  Bon-Bon"  as  for  all  the  trash  of  all  the 
•*/c?ees"  of  all  the  rest  of  the  savants?  Bon-Bon  had  ransacked 
libraries  which  no  other  man  had  ransacked — had  read  more  than 
any  other  would  have  entertained  a  notion  of  reading — had  under- 
stood more  than  any  other  would  have  conceived  the  possibility 
of  understanding;  and  although,  while  he  flourished,  there  wera 


476  BON-BON. 

not  wanting  some  authors  at  Rouen  to  assert  "  that  his  dicla 
evinced  neither  the  purity  of  the  Academy,  nor  the  depth  of  the 
Lyceum" — although,  mark  me,  his  doctrines  /vere  by  no  means 
very  generally  comprehended,  still  it  did  not  follow  that  they  were 
difficult  of  comprehension.  It  was,  I  think,  on  account  of  their 
self-evidency  that  many  persons  were  led  to  consider  them  ab- 
struse. It  is  to  Bon-Bon — but  let  this  go  no  farther — it  is  to 
Bon-Bon  that  Kant  himself  is  mainly  indebted  for  his  metaphysics. 
The  former  was  indeed  not  a  Platonist,  nor  strictly  speaking  an 
Aristotelian — nor  did  he,  like  the  modern  Leibnitz,  waste  those 
precious  hours  which  might  be  employed  in  the  invention  of  a 
fricasee,  or,  facili  gradu,  the  analysis  of  a  sensation,  in  frivolous 
attempts  at  reconciling  the  obstinate  oils  and  waters  of  ethical  dis- 
cussion. Not  at  all.  Bon-Bon  was  Ionic — Bon-Bon  was  equally 
Italic.  He  reasoned  a  priori — He  reasoned  also  a  posteriori, 
His  ideas  were  innate — or  otherwise.  He  believed  in  George  of 
Trebizond — He  believed  in  Bossarion.  Bon-Bon  was  emphati- 
cally a — Bon-Bonist. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  philosopher  in  his  capacity  of  restaura- 
teur. I  would  not,  however,  have  any  friend  of  mine  imagine 
that,  in  fulfilling  his  hereditary  duties  in  that  line,  o  ur  hero  wanted 
a  proper  estimation  of  their  dignity  and  importance.  Far  from  it, 
It  was  impossible  to  say  in  which  branch  of  his  profession  he  took 
the  greater  pride.  In  his  opinion  the  powers  of  the  intellect  held 
intimate  connection  with  the  capabilities  of  the  stomach.  I  am 
not  sure,  indeed,  that  he  greatly  disagreed  with  the. Chinese,  who 
hold  that  the  soul  lies  in  the  abdomen.  The  Greeks  at  all  events 
were  right,  he  thought,  who  employed  the  same  word  for  the  mind 
and  the  diaphragm.*  By  this  I  do  not  mean  to  insinuate  a  charge 
of  gluttony,  or  indeed  any  other  serious  charge  to  the  prejudice 
of  the  metaphysician.  If  Pierre  Bon-Bon  had  his  failings — and 
what  great  man  has  not  a  thousand  ? — if  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  1  say, 
had  his  failings,  they  were  failings  of  very  little  importance — faults 
indeed  which,  in  other  tempers,  have  often  been  looked  upon  rather 
in  the  light  of  virtues.  As  regards  one  of  these  foiUes,  I  should 
not  even  have  mentioned  it  in  this  history  but  for  the  remarkable 

*    0P£VS£. 


BON-BON.  477 

prominency — the  extreme  alto  relievo — in  which  it  jutted  out  from 
the  plane  of  his  general  disposition. — lie  could  never  lot  slip  an 
opportunity  of  making  a  bargain. 

Not  that  he  was  avaricious — no.  It  was  by  no  means  neces- 
sary to  the  satisfaction  of  the  philosopher,  that  the  bargain  should 
be  to  his  own  proper  advantage.  Provided  a  trade  could  be 
effected — a  trade  of  any  kind,  upon  any  terms,  or  under  any  cir- 
cumstances— a  triumphant  smile  was  seen  for  many  days  there- 
after to  enlighten  his  countenance,  and  a  knowing  wink  of  the  eye 
to  give  evidence  of  his  sagacity. 

At  any  epoch  it  would  not  be  very  wonderful  if  a  humor  so 
peculiar  as  the  one  I  have  just  mentioned,  should  elicit  attention 
and  remark.  At  the  epoch  of  our  narrative,  had  this  peculiarity 
not  attracted  observation,  there  would  have  been  room  for  wonder 
indeed.  It  was  soon  reported  that,  upon  all  occasions  of  the  kind, 
the  smile  of  Bon-Bon  was  wont  to  differ  widely  from  the  down- 
right grin  with  which  he  would  laugh  at  his  own  jokes,  or  wel 
come  an  acquaintance.  Hints  were  thrown  out  of  an  exciting 
nature ;  stories  were  told  of  perilous  bargains  made  in  a  hurry 
and  repented  of  at  leisure ;  and  instances  were  adduced  of  unac- 
countable capacities,  vague  longings,  and  unnatural  inclinations 
implanted  by  the  author  of  all  evil  for  wise  purposes  of  his  own. 

The  philosopher  had  other  weaknesses — but  they  are  scarcely 
worthy  our  serious  examination.  For  example,  there  are  few  men 
of  extraordinary  profundity  who  are  found  wanting  in  an  inclina- 
tion for  the  bottle.  Whether  this  inclination  be  an  exciting  cause, 
or  rather  a  valid  proof,  of  such  profundity,  it  is  a  nice  thing  to  say 
Bon-Bon,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  did  not  think  the  subject  adapted 
to  minute  investigation ; — nor  do  I.  Yet  in  the  indulgence  of  a 
propensity  so  truly  classical,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the 
restaurateur  would  lose  sight  of  that  intuitive  discrimination 
which  was  wont  to  characterize,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  his 
essais  and  his  omelettes.  In  his  seclusions  the  Vin  de  Bourgogne 
had  its  allotted  hour,  and  there  were  appropriate  moments  for  the 
Cotes  du  Rhone.  With  him  Sauterne  was  to  Medoc  what  Catul- 
lus was  to  Homer.  He  would  sport  with  a  syllogism  in  sipping 
St.  Peray,  but  unravel  an  argument  over  Clos  de  Vougeot,  and 
upset  a  theory  in  a  torrent  of  Chambertin.  Well  had  it  been  if 


478  BON-BON 

the  same  quick  sense  of  propriety  had  attended  him  in  the  ped- 
dling propensity  to  which  I  have  formerly  alluded — but  this  was 
by  no  means  the  case.  Indeed,  to  say  the  truth,  that  trait  of  mind 
in  the  philosophic  Bon-Bon  did  begin  at  length  to  assume  a  char- 
acter of  strange  intensity  and  mysticism,  and  appeared  deeply 
tinctured  with  the  diablerie  of  his  favorite  German  studies. 

To  enter  the  little  Cafe  in  the  Cul-de-Sac  Le  Febre  was,  at  the 
period  of  cir  tale,  to  enter  the  sanctum  of  a  man  of  genius.  Bon- 
Bon  was  a  man  of  genius.  There  was  not  a  sous-cuisinier  in 
Rouen,  who  could  not  have  told  you  that  Bon-Bon  was  a  man  of 
genius.  His  very  cat  knew  it,  and  forebore  to  whisk  her  tail  in 
the  presence  of  the  man  of  genius.  His  large  water-dog  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  fact,  and  upon  the  approach  of  his  master, 
betrayed  his  sense  of  inferiority  by  a  sanctity  of  deportment,  a  de- 
basement of  the  ears,  and  a  dropping  of  the  lower  jaw  not  altoge- 
ther unworthy  of  a  dog.  It  is,  however,  true  that  much  of  this 
habitual  respect  might  have  been  attributed  to  the  personal  ap- 
pearance of  the  metaphysician.  A  distinguished  exterior  will,  I 
am  constrained  to  say,  have  its  weight  even  with  a  beast;  and  I 
am  willing  to  allow  much  in  the  outward  man  of  the  restaurateur 
calculated  to  impress  the  imagination  of  the  quadruped.  There  is 
a  peculiar  majesty  about  the  atmosphere  of  the  little  great — if  I 
may  be  permitted  so  equivocal  an  expression — which  mere  physi- 
cal bulk  alone  will  be  found  at  all  times  inefficient  in  creating.  If, 
however,  Bon-Bon  was  barely  three  feet  in  height,  and  if  his  head 
was  diminutively  small,  still  it  was  impossible  to  behold  the  rotun- 
dity of  his  stomach  without  a  sense  of  magnificence  nearly  border- 
ing upon  the  sublime.  In  its  size  both  dogs  and  men  must  havo 
seen  a  type  of  his  acquirements — in  its  immensity  a  fitting  habi- 
tation for  his  immortal  soul. 

I  might  here — if  it  so  pleased  me — dilate  upon  the  matter  of 
habiliment,  and  other  mere  circumstances  of  the  external  meta- 
physician. 1  might  hint  that  the  hair  of  our  hero  was  worn  short, 
combed  smoothly  over  his  forehead,  and  surmounted  ~by  a  conical« 
shaped  white  flannel  cap  and  tassels — that  his  pea-green  jerkin 
was  not  after  the  fashion  of  those  worn  by  the  common  class  of 
restaur  iteurs  at  that  day — that  the  sleeves  were  something  fuller 
tnan  the  reigning  costume  permitted — that  the  cuffs  were  turned 


BON-BON.  479 

up,  not  as  usual  in  that  barbarous  period,  with  cloth  of  the  same 
quality  and  color  as  the  garment,  but  faced  in  a  more  fanciful 
manner  with  the  particolored  velvet  of  Genoa — that  his  slippers 
were  of  a  bright  purple,  curiously  filagreed,  and  might  have  been 
manufactured  in  Japan,  but  for  the  exquisite  pointing  of  the  toes, 
and  the  brilliant  tints  of  the  binding  and  embroidery — that  his 
breeches  were  of  the  yellow  satin-like  material  called  aimable — • 
that  his  sky-blue  cloak,  resembling  in  form  a  dressing-wrapper, 
and  richly  bestudded  all  over  with  crimson  devices,  floated  cava- 
lierly upon  his  shoulders  like  a  mist  of  the  morning — and  that  his 
tout  ensemble  gave  rise  to  the  remarkable  words  of  Benevenuta, 
the  Improvisatrice  of  Florence,  "  that  it  was  difficult  to  say  whe- 
ther Pierre  Bon-Bon  was  indeed  a  bird  of  Paradise,  or  the  rather 
a  very  Paradise  of  perfection." — I  might,  I  say,  expatiate  upon  all 
these  points  if  I  pleased ; — but  I  forbear : — merely  personal  details 
may  be  left  to  historical  novelists ; — they  are  beneath  the  moral 
dignity  of  matter-of-fact. 

I  have  said  that  "  to  enter  the  Cafe  in  the  Cul-de-Sac  Le 
Febvre  was  to  enter  the  sanctum  of  a  man  of  genius" — but  then 
it  was  only  the  man  of  genius  who  could  duly  estimate  the  merits 
of  the  sanctum.  A  sign,  consisting  of  a  vast  folio,  swung  before 
the  entrance.  On  one  side  of  the  volume  was  painted  a  bottle;  on 
the  reverse  a  pate.  On  the  back  were  visible,  in  large  letters 
(Euvres  de  Bon-Bon.  Thus  was  delicately  shadowed  forth  the 
two-fold  occupation  of  the  proprietor. 

Upon  stepping  over  the  threshold,  the  whole  interior  of  the 
building  presented  itself  to  view.  A  long,  low-pitched  room,  of 
antique  construction,  was  indeed  alt  the  accommodation  afforded 
by  the  Cafe.  In  a  corner  of  the  apartment  stood  the  bed  of  the 
metaphysician.  An  array  of  curtains,  together  with  a  canopy 
a  la  Gregue,  gave  it  an  air  at  once  classic  and  comfortable.  In 
the  corner  diagonally  opposite,  appeared,  in  direct  family  com- 
munion, the  properties  of  the  kitchen  and  the  bibliotkeque.  A 
dish  of  polemics  stood  peacefully  upon  the  dresser.  Here  lay  an 
oven-full  of  the  latest  ethics — there  a  kettle  of  duodecimo  melanges, 
Volumes  of  German  morality  were  hand  and  glove  with  the  grid- 
iron- -a  toasting  fork  might  be  discovered  by  the  side  of  Euse- 


480  BON-BON. 

bius — Plato  reclined  at  his  ease  in  t,ie  frying  pan — and  coiitom 
poraiy  manuscripts  were  filed  away  upon  the  spit. 

In  other  respects  the  Cafe  de  Bon-Bon  might  be  said  to  differ 
little  from  the  usual  restaurants  of  the  period.  A  large  fire-plaeo 
yawned  opposite  the  door.  On  the  right  of  the  fire-place  an  open 
cupboard  displayed  a  formidable  array  of  labelled  bottles. 

It  was  here,  about  twelve  o'clock  one  night,  during  the  severe 

winter  of  ,  that  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  after  having  listened  for 

some  time  to  the  comments  of  his  neighbors  iipon  his  singular 
propensity — that  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  I  say,  having  turned  them  all 
out  of  his  house,  locked  the  door  upon  them  with  an  oath,  and 
betook  himself  in  no  very  pacific  mood  to  the  comforts  of  a  leather- 
bottomed  arm-chair,  and  a  fire  of  blazing  faggots. 

It  was  one  of  those  terrific  nights  which  are  only  met  with  once 
or  twice  during  a  century.  It  snowed  fiercely,  and  the  house 
tottered  to  its  centre  with  the  floods  of  wind  that,  rushing  through 
the  crannies  of  the  wall,  and  pouring  impetuously  down  the  chim- 
ney, shook  awfully  the  curtains  of  the  philosopher's  bed,  and  dis- 
organized the  economy  of  his  patepans  and  papers.  The  huge 
folio  sign  that  swung  without,  exposed  to  the  fury  of  the  tempest, 
creaked  ominously,  and  gave  out  a  moaning  sound  from  its  stan- 
chions of  solid  oak. 

It  was  in  no  placid  temper,  I  say,  that  the  metaphysician  drew 
up  his  chair  to  its  customary  station  by  the  hearth.  Many  circum- 
stances of  a  perplexing  nature  had  occurred  during  the  day,  to 
disturb  the  serenity  of  his  meditations.  In  attempting  des  cevfs 
a  la  Princesse,  he  had  unfortunately  perpetrated  an  omelete  a  la 
.Reine  ;  the  discovery  of  a  principle  in  ethics  had  been  frustrated! 
by  the  overturning  of  a  stew ;  and  last,  not  least,  he  had  been 
thwarted  in  one  of  those  admirable  bargains  which  he  at  all  times 
took  such  especial  delight  in  bringing  to  a  successful  termination. 
But  in  the  chafing  of  his  mind  at  these  unaccountable  vicissitudes, 
there  did  not  fail  to  be  mingled  some  degree  of  that  nervous  anxiety 
which  the  fury  of  a  boisterous  night  is  so  well  calculated  to  pro- 
duce. Whistling  to  his  more  immediate  vicinity  the  large  black 
water-dog  we  have  spoken  (if  before,  and  settling  himself  uneasily 
in  his  chair,  he  could  not  help  casting  a  wary  and  unquiet  eye 


BON-BON.  481 

towards  those  distant  recesses  of  the  apartment  whose  inexorable 
shadows  not  even  the  red  fire-light  itself  could  more  than  partially 
succeed  in  overcoming.  Having  completed  a  scrutiny  whose  exact 
purpose  was  perhaps  unintelligible  to  himself,  he  drew  close  to 
his  seat  a  small  table  covered  with  books  and  papers,  and  soon 
became  absorbed  in  the  task  of  re-touching  a  voluminous  manu- 
script, intended  for  publication  on  the  morrow. 

He  had  been  thus  occupied  for  some  minutes,  when  "  I  am  in 
no  hurry,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon,"  suddenly  whispered  a  whining  voice 
in  the  apartment. 

"  The  devil !"  ejaculated  our  hero,  starting  to  his  feet,  overturn- 
ing the  table  ut  his  side,  and  staring  around  him  in  astonishment. 

"  Very  true, '  calmly  replied  the  voice. 

"  Very  true  ! — what  is  very  true  ? — how  came  you  here  ?"  vo- 
ciferated the  metaphysician,  as  his  eye  fell  upon  something  which 
lay  stretched  at  full-length  upon  the  bed. 

"  I  was  saying,"  said  the  intruder,  without  attending  to  the  in- 
terrogatories, "  I  was  saying,  that  I  am  not  at  all  pushed  for  time — • 
that  the  business  upon  which  I  took  the  liberty  of  calling,  is  of 
BO  pressing  importance— in  short,  that  I  can  very  well  wait  until 
you  have  finished  your  Exposition." 

"  My  Exposition  ! — there  now  ! — how  do  you  know  ? — how 
came  you  to  understand  that  I  was  writing  an  Exposition — good 
God  !" 

"  Hush  !"  replied  the  figure,  in  a  shrill  under  tone  ;  and.  arising 
quickly  from  the  bed,  he  made  a  single  step  towards  our  hero, 
while  an  iron  lamp  that  depended  overhead  swung  convulsively 
baf.k  from  his  approach. 

The  philosopher's  amazement  did  not  prevent  a  narrow  scrutiny 
of  the  stranger's  dress  and  appearance.  The  outlines  of  his  figure, 
exceedingly  lean,  but  much  above  the  common  height,  were  ren- 
dered minutely  distinct  by  means  of  a  faded  suit  of  black  cloth 
which  fitted  tight  to  the  skin,  but  was  otherwise  cut  very  much 
in  the  style  of  a  century  ago.  These  garments  had  evidently  been 
Intended  for  a  much  shorter  person  than  their  present  owner.  His 
ankles  and  wrists  were  left  naked  for  several  inches.  In  his  shoes, 
however,  a  pair  of  very  brilliant  buckles  gave  the  lie  to  the  extreme 
poverty  implied  by  the  other  portions  of  his  dress.  His  head  was 


482  BON-BON. 

bare,  and  entirely  bald,  with  the  exception  of  the  hinder-part, 
from  which  depended  a  queue  of  considerable  length.  A  pair  of 
green  spectacles,  with  side  glasses,  protected  his  eyes  from  the 
influence  of  the  light,  and  at  the  same  time  prevented  our  hero 
from  ascertaining  either  their  color  or  their  conformation.  About 
the  entire  person  there  was  no  evidence  of  a  shirt ;  but  a  white 
cravat,  of  filthy  appearance,  was  tied  with  extreme  precision  around 
the  throat,  and  the  ends,  hanging  down  formally  side  by  side, 
gave  (although  I  dare  say  unintentionally)  the  idea  of  an  eccle- 
siastic. Indeed,  many  other  points  both  in  his  appearance  ana 
demeanor  might  have  very  well  sustained  a  conception  of  that 
nature.  Over  his  left  ear,  he  carried,  after  the  fashion  of  a  modern 
clerk,  an  instrument  resembling  the  stylus  of  the  ancients.  In  a 
breast-pocket  of  his  coat  appeared  conspicuously  a  small  black 
volume  fastened  with  clasps  of  steel.  This  book,  whether  acciden- 
tally or  not,  was  so  turned  outwardly  from  the  person  as  to  discover 
the  words  "  Rituel  Catholique"  in  white  letters  upon  the  back. 
His  entire  physiognomy  was  interestingly  saturnine — even  cadaver- 
ously pale.  The  forehead  was  lofty,  and  deeply  furrowed  with  the 
ridges  of  contemplation.  The  corners  of  the  mouth  were  drawn 
down  into  an  expression  of  the  most  submissive  humility.  There 
was  also  a  clasping  of  the  hands,  as  he  stepped  towards  our  hero — 
a  deep  sigh — and  altogether  a  look  of  such  utter  sanctity  as  could 
not  have  failed  to  be  unequivocally  prepossessing.  Every  shadow 
of  anger  faded  from  the  countenance  of  the  metaphysician,  as, 
having  completed  a  satisfactory  survey  of  his  visiter's  person,  he 
shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand,  and  conducted  him  to  a  seat. 

There  would  however  be  a  radical  error  in  attributing  this  in- 
stantaneous transition  of  feeling  in  the  philosopher,  to  any  one 
of  those  causes  which  might  naturally  be  supposed  to  have  had 
an  influence.  Indeed,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  from  what  I  have  been 
able  to  understand  of  his  disposition,  was  of  all  men  the  least  likely 
to  be  imposed  upon  by  any  speciousness  of  exterior  deportment. 
It  was  impossible  that  so  accurate  an  observer  of  men  and  things 
should  have  failed  to  discover,  upon  the  moment,  the  real  character 
of  the  personage  who  had  thus  intruded  upon  his  hospitality.  To 
say  no  more,  the  conformation  of  his  visiter's  feet  was  sufficiently 
remarkable — he  maintained  lightly  upon  his  head  an  inordinately 


BON-BON.  483 

tall  hat — there  was  a  tremulous  swelling  about  the  hinder  part 
of  his  breeches — and  the  vibration  of  his  coat  tail  was  a  palpable 
fact.  Judge,  then,  with  what  feelings  of  satisfaction  our  hero  found 
himself  thrown  thus  at  once  into  the  society  of  a  person  for  whom 
he  had  at  all  times  entertained  the  most  unqualified  respect.  He 
was,  however,  too  much  of  the  diplomatist  to  let  escape  him  any 
intimation  of  his  suspicions  in  regard  to  the  true  state  of  affairs. 
It  was  not  his  cue  to  appear  at  all  conscious  of  the  high  honov 
he  thus  unexpectedly  enjoyed ;  but,  by  leading  his  guest  into  con- 
versation, to  elicit  some  important  ethical  ideas,  which  might,  in 
obtaining  a  place  in  his  contemplated  publication,  enlighten  tho 
human  race,  and  at  the  same  time  immortalize  himself — ideas 
which,  I  should  have  added,  his  visiter's  great  age,  and  well-known 
oroficiency  in  the  science  of  morals,  might  very  well  have  enabled 
aim  to  afford. 

Actuated  by  these  enlightened  views,  our  hero  bade  the  gentle- 
man sit  down,  while  he  himself  took  occasion  to  throw  some  fag- 
gots upon  the  fire,  and  place  upon  the  now  re-established  table 
some  bottles  of  Mousseux.  Having  quickly  completed  these  ope- 
rations, he  drew  his  chair  vis-a-vis  to  his  companion's,  and  waited 
until  the  latter  should  open  the  conversation.  But,  plans  even  tho 
most  skilfully  matured,  are  often  thwarted  in  the  outset  of  their 
application — and  the  restaurateur  found  himself  nonplussed  by  the 
very  first  words  of  his  visiter's  speech. 

"  I  see  you  know  me,  Bon-Bon,"  said  he  :  "  ha !  ha !  ha ! — 
he !  he  !  he  !— hi !  hi !  hi !— ho !  ho !  ho  V— hu  !  hu!  hu!"— and  the 
devil,  dropping  at  once  the  sanctity  of  his  demeanor,  opened  to 
its  fullest  extent  a  mouth  from  ear  to  ear,  so  as  to  display  a  set  of 
jagged  and  fang-like  teeth,  and  throwing  back  his  head,  laughed 
long,  loudly,  wickedly,  and  uproariously,  while  the  black  dog, 
crouching  down  upon  his  haunches,  joined  lustily  in  the  chorus, 
and  the  tabby  cat,  flying  off  at  a  tangent,  stood  up  on  end,  and 
shrieked  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  apartment. 

Not  so  the  philosopher :  he  was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world 
either  to  laugh  like  the  dog,  or  by  shrieks  to  betray  the  indecorous 
trepidation  of  the  cat.  It  must  be  confessed,  he  felt  a  little  aston- 
ishment to  see  the  white  letters  which  formed  the  words  "  Rituei 
Catholique"  on  the  book  in  his  guest's  pocket,  momently  chang- 


484  BON-BON. 

ing  both  their  color  and  their  import,  and  in  a  few  seconds,  in 
place  of  the  original  title,  the  words  " Reyitre  des  Condamnes1' 
blaze  forth  in  characters  of  red.  This  startling  circumstance,  when 
Bon-Bon  replied  to  his  visitor's  remark,  imparted  to  his  manner 
au  air  of  embarrassment  which  probably  might  not  otherwise 
have  been  observed. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  the  philosopher,  "  why,  sir,  to  speak  sincere- 
ly— I  belbve  you  are — upon  my  word — the  d dest — that  is 

to  say,  I  think — I  imagine — I  have  some  faint — some  very  faint 
idea — of  the  remarkable  honor " 

"  Oh  ! — ah  ! — yes  ! — very  well  !"  interrupted  his  Majesty  ;  "say 
no  more — I  see  how  it  is."  And  hereupon,  taking  oft'  his  green 
spectacles,  he  wiped  the  glasses  carefully  with  the  sleeve  of  his 
coat,  and  deposited  them  in  his  pocket. 

If  Bon-Bon  had  been  astonished  at  the  incident  of  the  book, 
his  amazement  was  now  much  increased  by  the  spectacle  which 
here  presented  itself  to  view.  In  raising  his  eyes,  with  a  strong 
feeling  of  curiosity  to  ascertain  the  color  of  his  guest's,  he  found 
them  by  no  means  black,  as  lie  had  anticipated — nor  gray,  as 
might  have  been  imagined — nor  yet  hazel  nor  blue — nor  indeed 
yellow  nor  red — nor  purple — nor  white — nor  green — nor  any  other 
color  in  the  heavens  above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  in  the  wa- 
ters under  the  earth.  In  short,  Pierre  Bon-Bon  not  only  saw 
plainly  that  his  Majesty  had  no  eyes  whatsoever,  but  could  dis- 
cover no  indications  of  their  having  existed  at  any  previous  pe- 
riod— for  the  space  where  eyes  should  naturally  have  been,  was, 
I  am  constrained  to  say,  simply  a  dead  level  of  flesh. 

It  was  not  in  the  nature  of  the  metaphysician  to  forbear  ma- 
king some  inquiry  into  the  sources  of  so  strange  a  phenomenon ; 
and  the  reply  of  his  Majesty  was  at  once  prompt,  dignified,  and 
satisfactory. 

"  Eyes  !  my  dear  Bon-Bon — eyes  !  did  you  say  ? — oh  ! — ah  ! — 
I  perceive !  The  ridiculous  prints,  eh,  which  are  in  circulation, 
have  given  you  a  false  idea  of  my  personal  appearance  ?  Eyes  I—- 
true, Eyes,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  are  very  well  in  their  proper  place — 
that,  you  would  say,  is  the  head? — right — the  head  of  a  worm. 
To  you  likewise  these  optics  are  indispensable — yet  I  will  con- 
vince you  thai  my  vision  is  more  penetrating  than  your  own 


BON-BON  485 

Iliore  is  a  cat  I  see  in  the  corner — a  pretty  cat — look  at  her — • 
observe  her  well.  Now,  Bon-Bon,  do  you  behold  the  thoughts — • 
the  thoughts,  I  say — the  ideas — the  reflections — which  are  being 
engendered  in  her  pericranium  ?  There  it  is,  now — you  do  not ! 
She  is  thinking  we  admire  the  length  of  her  tail  and  the  profun- 
dity of  her  mind.  She  has  just  concluded  that  I  am  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  ecclesiastics,  and  that  you  are  the  most  superficial 
of  metaphysicians.  Thus  you  see  I  am  not  altogether  blind  ;  but 
to  one  of  my  profession,  the  eyes  you  speak  of  would  be  merely 
an  incumbrance,  liable  at  any  time  to  be  put  out  by  a  toasting 
iron  or  a  pitchfork.  To  you,  I  allow,  these  optical  affairs  are  in- 
dispensable. Endeavor,  Bon-Bon,  to  use  them  well ; — my  vision 
is  the  soul." 

Hereupon  the  guest  helped  himself  to  the  wine  upon  the  table, 
and  pouring  out  a  bumper  for  Bon-Bon,  requested  him  to  drink  it 
without  scruple,  and  make  himself  perfectly  at  home. 

"  A  clever  book  that  of  yours,  Pierre,"  resumed  his  Majesty, 
tapping  our  friend  knowingly  upon  the  shoulder,  as  the  latter  put 
down  his  glass  after  a  thorough  compliance  with  his  visiter's  in- 
junction. "  A  clever  book  that  of  yours,  upon  my  honor.  It's 
a  work  after  my  own  heart.  Your  arrangement  of  the  matter, 
I  think,  however,  might  be  improved,  and  many  of  your  notions 
remind  me  of  Aristotle.  That  philosopher  was  one  of  my  most 
intimate  acquaintances.  I  liked  him  as  much  for  his  terrible  ill 
temper,  as  for  his  happy  knack  at  making  a  blunder.  There  is 
only  one  solid  truth  in  all  that  he  has  written,  nncl  for  that  I  gave 
him  the  hint  out  of  pure  compassion  foi  his  absurdity.  I  sup 
pose,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  you  very  well  -know  to  what  divine  moral 
truth  I  am  alluding  ?" 

"  Cannot  say  that  I " 

"  Indeed ! — why  it  was  I  who  told  Aristotle,  that,  by  sneezing, 
men  expelled  superfluous  ideas  through  the  proboscis." 

"  Which  is — hiccup  ! — undoubtedly  the  case,"  said  the  meta- 
physician, while  he  poured  out  for  himself  another  bumper  of  Mous- 
eeux,  and  offered  his  snuff-box  to  the  fingers  of  his  visiter. 

"  There  was  Plato,  too,"  continued  his  Majesty,  modestly  de- 
clining the  snuff-box  and  the  compliment  it  implied — "  there  was 
Plato,  too,  for  whom  I,  at  one  time,  felt  all  the  affection  of  a  friend 


486  BON-BON. 

You  knew  Plato,  Bon-Bon  ? — ah,  no,  I  beg  a  thousand  pardon* 
He  met  me  at  Athens,  one  day,  in  the  Parthenon,  and  told  me 
he  was  distressed  for  an  idea.  I  bade  him  write  down  that  o  voug 
ESTIV  auXof.  He  said  that  he  would  do  so,  and  went  home,  while 
I  stepped  over  to  the  pyramids.  But  my  conscience  smote  me 
for  having  uttered  a  truth,  even  to  aid  a  friend,  and  hastening 
back  to  Athens,  I  arrived  behind  the  philosopher's  chair  as  he  waa 
inditing  the  '  auXocr.'  Giving  the  lamma  a  fillip  with  my  finger, 
I  turned  it  upside  down.  So  the  sentence  now  reads  '  o  vourf  stf-riv 
auyo£,'  and  is,  you  perceive,  the  fundamental  doctrine  in  his  meta- 
physics." 

"  Were  you  ever  at  Rome  ?"  asked  the  restaurateur,  as  he  fin- 
ished his  second  bottle  of  Mousseux,  and  drew  from  the  closet 
a  larger  supply  of  Chambertin. 

"But  once,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon,  but  once.  There  was  a  time," 
Baid  the  devil,  as  if  reciting  some  passage  from  a  book — "  there 
was  a  time  when  occurred  an  anarchy  of  five  years,  during  which 
the  repxiblic,  bereft  of  all  its  officers,  had  no  magistracy  besidea 
the  tribunes  of  the  people,  and  these  were  not  legally  vested  with 
any  degree  of  executive  power — at  that  time,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon — 
at  that  time  only  I  was  in  Rome,  and  I  have  no  earthly  acquaint- 
ance, consequently,  with  any  of  its  philosophy."  * 

"  What  do  you  think  of — what  do  you  think  of — hiccup  ! — • 
Epicurus  ?" 

"  What  do  I  think  of  whom  ?"  said  the  devil,  in  astonishment ; 
"  you  cannot  surely  mean  to  find  any  fault  with  Epicurus  !  What 
do  I  think  of  Epicurus  !  Do  you  mean  me,  sir  ? — /  am  Epicurus  ! 
I  am  the  same  philosopher  who  wrote  each  of  the  three  hundred 
treatises  commemorated  by  Diogenes  Laertes." 

"  That's  a  lie  !"  said  the  metaphysician,  for  the  wine  had  gotten 
a  little  into  his  head. 

"  Very  well ! — very  well,  sir  ! — very  well,  indeed,  sir !"  said  his 
Majesty,  apparently  much  flattered. 

"That's  a  lie  !"  repeated  the  restaurateur,  dogmatically,  "that's 
a — hiccup  !—  a  lie  !" 

*  11s  ecrivaient  sur  la  Philosophic,  (Cicero,  Lucretius,  Seneca)  mais  c'etait 
la  Philosophic  Grecque. — Condoreet. 


BON-BON.  487 

"Well,  well,  have  it  your  own  way  !"  said  the  devil,  pacifically 
and  Bon -Bon,  having  beaten  his  Majesty  at  an  argument,  though 
it  his  duty  to  conclude  a  second  bottle  of  Chambertin. 

"As  I  was  saying,"  resinned  the  visiter,  "as  I  was  observing  a 
little  while  ago,  there  are  some  very  outre  notions  in  that  book  of 
^'ours,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon.  What,  for  instance,  do  you  mean  by 
all  that  humbug  about  the  soul  ?  Pray,  sir,  what  is  the  soul  ?" 

"  The-— hiccup  ! — soul,"  replied  the  metaphysician,  referring  to 
nis  MS.,  "  is  undoubtedly " 

"No,  sir!" 

"  Induoitably " 

"No,  sir!" 


"Indisputably " 

"No,  sir!" 

"  Evidently " 

"No,  sir!" 

"  Incontrovertibly " 

"No,  sir!" 

?  Hiccup! •" 

"No,  sir!" 

"And  beyond  all  question,  a- 


"  No,  sir,  the  soul  is  no  such  thing !"  (Here,  the  philosopher 
looking  daggers,  took  occasion  to  make  an  end,  upon  the  spot, 
of  his  third  bottle  of  Chambertin.) 

"  Then — hiccup  ! — pray,  sir — what — what  is  it  ?" 

"That  is  neither  here  nor  there,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon,"  replied 
his  Majesty,  musingly.  "  I  have  tasted — that  is  to  say,  I  have 
known  some  very  bad  souls,  and  some  too — pretty  good  ones." 
Here  he  smacked  his  lips,  and,  having  unconsciously  let  fall  his 
hand  upon  the  volume  in  his  pocket,  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit 
of  sneezing. 

He  continued : 

"There  was  the  soul  of  Cratinus — passable:  Aristophanes — 
racy  :  Plato — exquisite — not  your  Plato,  but  Plato  the  comic 
poet :  your  Plato  would  have  turned  the  stomach  of  Cerberus— 
faugh !  Then  let  me  see !  there  were  Noevius,  and  Andronicus, 
and  Plautus,  and  Terentius.  Then  there  were  Lucilius,  and  Ca- 
tullus, and  Naso,  and  Quintius  Flaccus, — dear  Quiuty !  as  I  called 


488  BON-BON. 

him  when  he  sung  a  seculare  for  my  amusement,  while  I  toasted 
him,  in  pure  good  humor,  on  a  fork.  But  they  wwa.t  flavor  those 
Romans.  One  fat  Greek  is  worth  a  dozen  of  them,  and  besides 
will  keep,  which  cannot  be  said  of  a  Quirite. — Let  us  taste  youi 
Sauterne." 

Bon-Bon  had  by  this  time  made  up  his  mind  to  the  nil  admi- 
rari,  and  endeavored  to  hand  down  the  bottles  in  question.  He 
was,  however,  conscious  of  a  strange  sound  in  the  room  like  the 
wagging  of  a  tail.  Of  this,  although  extremely  indecent  in  his 
Majesty,  the  philosopher  took  no  notice  : — simply  kicking  the  dog, 
and  requesting  him  to  be  quiet.  The  visiter  continued  : 

"  I  found  that  Horace  tasted  very  much  like  Aristotle ; — you 
know  I  am  fond  of  variety.  Terentius  I  could  not  have  told  from 
Meuander.  Naso,  to  my  astonishment,  was  Nicander  in  disguise. 
Virgilius  had  a  strong  twang  of  Theocritus.  Martial  put  me  much 
in  mind  of  Archilochus — and  Titus  Livius  was  positively  Polybius 
and  none  other." 

"  Hiccup  !"  here  replied  Bon-Bon,  and  his  Majesty  proceeded : 

"  But  if  I  have  a  penchant,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon — if  I  have  a  pen- 
chant, it  is  for  a  philosopher.  Yet,  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  it  is  not 
every  dev — I  mean  it  is  not  every  gentleman,  who  knows  how  to 
choose  a  philosopher.  Long  ones  are  not  good  ;  and  the  best,  if 
not  carefully  shelled,  are  apt  to  be  a  little  rancid  on  account  of 
the  gall." 

"  Shelled ! !" 

"  I  mean,  taken  out  of  the  carcass." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  a — hiccup  ! — physician  ?" 

"Don't  mention  them  ! — ugh!  ugh!"  (Here  his  Majesty  retch- 
ed violently.)  "  I  never  tasted  but  one — that  rascal  Hippocrates  ! 
— smelt  of  asafcetida — ugh !  ugh !  ugh ! — caught  a  wretched  cold 
washing  him  in  the  Styx — and  after  all  he  gave  me  the  cholera 
morbus." 

"The — hiccup!  —  wretch!"  ejaculated  Bon-Bon,  "the — hic- 
cup ' — abortion  of  a  pill-box  !" — and  the  philosopher  dropped  a 
tear. 

"  After  all,"  continued  the  visiter,  "  after  all,  if  a  dev — if  a  gen- 
.  t.leman  wishes  to  live,  he  must  have  more  talents  than  one  or  two ; 
fiiid  with  us  a  fat  face  is  an  evidence  of  diplomacy." 


BON-BON.  489 

"How  so?" 

"  Why  we  are  sometimes  exceedingly  pushed  for  provisions. 
You  must  know  that,  in  a  climate  so  sultry  as  mine,  it  is  fre- 
quently impossible  to  keep  a  spirit  alive  for  more  than  two  or 
three  hours;  and  after  death,  unless  pickled  immediately,  (and  a 
pickled  spirit  is  not  good,)  they  will — smell — you  understand,  eh? 
Putrefaction  is  always  to  be  apprehended  when  the  souls  are  con- 
signed to  us  in  the  usual  way." 

"  Hiccup  ! — hiccup ! — good  God  !  how  do  you  manage  ?" 

Here  the  iron  lamp  commenced  swinging  with  redoubled  vio- 
lence, and  the  devil  half  started  from  his  seat; — however,  with  a 
slight  sigh,  he  recovered  his  composure,  merely  saying  to  our  hero 
in  a  low  tone,  "  I  tell  you  what,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  we  must  have  no 
more  swearing." 

The  host  swallowed  another  bumper,  by  way  of  denoting 
thorough  comprehension  and  acquiescence,  and  the  visiter  con- 
tinued : 

"  Why,  there  are  several  ways  of  managing.  The  most  of  ua 
starve:  some  put  up  with  the  pickle:  for  my  part  I  purchase  my 
spirits  vivente  corpore,  in  which  case  I  find  they  keep  very  well." 

"  But  the  body !— hiccup !— the  body ! ! !" 

"  The  body,  the  body — well,  what  of  the  body  ? — oh !  ah !  I  per- 
ceive. Why,  sir,  the  body  is  not  at  all  affected  by  the  transac- 
tion. I  have  made  innumerable  purchases  of  the  kind  in  my  day, 
and  the  parties  never  experienced  any  inconvenience.  There  were 
Cain  and  Nimrod,  and  Nero,  and  Caligula,  and  Dionysius,  and 
Pisistratus,  and — and  a  thousand  others,  who  never  knew  what  it 
was  to  have  a  soul  during  the  latter  part  of  their  lives ;  yet,  sir, 

these  men  adorned  society.    Why  is  n't  there  A ,  now,  whom 

you  know  as  well  as  I  ?     Is  he  not  in  possession  of  all  his  facul- 
ties, mental  and  corporeal  ?    Who  writes  a  keener  epigram  ?  Who 

reasons  more  wittily?    Who but,  stay!  I  have  his  agreement 

in  my  pocket-book." 

Thus  saying,  he  produced  a  red  leather  wallet,  and  took  from 
it  a  number  of  papers.  Upon  some  of  these  Bon-Bon  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  letters  Machi — Maza — Rpbesp — with  the  words 
Caligula,  George,  Elizabeth.  His  Majesty  selected  a  narrow  slip 
of  parchment,  and  from  it  read  aloud  the  following  we  rds  : 


490  BON-BON. 

"  In  consideration  of  certain  mental  endowments  -which  it  ia 
unnecessary  to  specify,  and  in  farther  consideration  of  one  thou- 
sand louis  d'or,  I,  being  aged  one  year  and  one  month,  do  hereby 
make  over  to  the  bearer  of  this  agreement  all  my  right,  title,  and 

appurtenance  in  the  shadow  called  my  soul."     (Signed)  A * 

(llere  his  Majesty  repeated  a  name  which  I  do  not  feel  myself  jus- 
tified in  indicating  more  unequivocally.) 

"  A  clever  fellow  that,"  resumed  he ;  "  but  like  you,  Monsieur 
J3on-13on,  he  was  mistaken  about  the  soul.  The  soul  a  shadow, 
truly  !  The  soul  a  shadow  !  Ha !  ha !  ha ! — he  !  he  !  he ! — hu ! 
hu  !  hu  !  Only  think  of  a  fricasseed  shadow  !" 

"  Only  think — hiccup  ! — of  a  fricasseed  shadow !"  exclaimed 
our  hero,  whose  faculties  were  becoming  much  illuminated  by  tha 
profundity  of  his  Majesty's  discourse. 

"  Only  think  of  a — hiccup ! — fricasseed  shadow ! !  Now,  dam- 
me!— hiccup! — humph!  If  /  would  have  been  sucli  a — hic- 
cup!— nincompoop.  My  soul,  Mr. — humph!" 

"  Your  soul,  Monsieur  Bon- Bon?" 

"  Yes,  sir — hiccup ! — my  soul  is" — 

"What,  sir?" 

"  No  shadow,  damme !" 

"  Did  you  mean  to  say" — 

"  Yes,  sir,  my  soul  is — hiccup ! — humph ! — ves,  sir." 

"  Did  not  intend  to  assert" — 

"My  soul  is — hiccup! — peculiarly   qualified  for  —  hiccup  I 
-a"— 

"What,  sir?" 

"  Stew." 

"  Ha !" 

"  Soufflee." 

4.  Eh  ?" 

"  Fricassee." 

"Indeed!" 

"  Ragout  and  fricandeau — and  see  here,  my  good  fellow  !  I'l 
let  you  have  it — hiccup  ! — a  bargain."  Here  the  philosopher 
slapped  his  Majesty  upon  the  back. 

*  Quere — Arouet?    ' 


BON-BOK  491 

"  Couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing,"  said  the  latter  calmly,  at  the 
same  time  rising  from  his  se-at.  The  metaphysician  stared. 

"  Am  supplied  at  present,"  said  his  Majesty. 

"  Ilic-cup  ! — e-h  ?"  said  the  philosopher. 

"Have  no  funds  on  hand." 

"What?" 

"  Resides,  very  unhandsome  in  me" — 

"Sir!" 

"  To  take  advantage  of" — 

"Ilic-cup!" 

"  Your  present  disgusting  and  ungentlemanly  situation." 

Here  the  visiter  bowed  and  withdrew — in  what  manner  could 
not  precisely  be  ascertained — but  in  a  well-concerted  effort  to  dis- 
charge a  bottle  at  "  the  villain,"  the  slender  chain  was  severed  that 
depended  from  the  ceiling,  and  the  metaphysician  prostrated  by 
tie  downfall  of  the  lamp. 


SOME  WORDS  ¥ITH  A  MUMMY 


THE  symposium  of  the  preceding  evening  had  been  a  little  too 
much  for  my  nerves.  I  had  a  wretched  head-ache,  and  was  des- 
perately drowsy.  Instead  of  going  out,  therefore,  to  spend  the 
evening,  as  I  had  proposed,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  could  not 
do  a  wiser  thing  than  just  eat  a  mouthful  of  supper  and  go  imme- 
diately to  bed. 

A  light  supper,  of  course.  I  am  exceedingly  fond  of  Welsh 
rabbit.  More  than  a  pound  at  once,  however,  may  not  at  all  times 
be  advisable.  Still,  there  can  be  no  material  objection  to  two. 
And  really  between  two  and  three,  there  is  merely  a  single  unit  ot 
difference.  I  ventured,  perhaps,  upon  four.  My  wife  will  have  it 
five ; — but,  clearly,  she  has  confounded  two  very  distinct  affairs 
The  abstract  number,  five,  I  am  willing  to  admit ;  but,  concreteiy< 
it  has  reference  to  bottles  of  Brown  Stout,  without  which,  in  the 
way  of  condiment,  AVelsh  rabbit  is  to  be  eschewed. 

Having  thus  concluded  a  frugal  meal,  and  donned  my  night- 
cap, with  the  serene  hope  of  enjoying  it  till  noon  the  next  day, 
I  placed  my  head  upon  the  pillow,  and,  through  the  aid  of  a  capi 
tal  conscience,  fell  into  a  profound  slumber  forthwith. 

But  when  were  the  hopes  of  humanity  fulfilled  ?  I  could  not 
have  completed  my  third  snore  when  there  came  a  furious  ringing 
at  the  street-door  bell,  and  then  an  impatient  thumping  at  the 
knocker,  which  awakened  me  at  once.  In  a  minute  afterward, 
mild  while  I  was  still  rubbing  my  eyes,  my  wife  thrust  in  my  face 
note,  from  my  old  friend,  Doctor  Ponnouner.  It  ran  thus : 


SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY.  493 

"Come  to  me,  by  all  means,  my  dear  good  friend,  as  soon  as  you  receiv« 
this.  Come  and  help  us  to  rejoice.  At  last,  by  long  persevering  diplomacy, 
I  have  gained  the  assent  of  the  Directors  of  the  City  Museum,  to  my  exami- 
nation of  the  Mummy — you  know  the  one  I  mean.  I  have  permission  to 
unswathe  it  and  open  it,  if  desirable.  A  few  friends  only  will  be  present — 
you,  of  course.  The  Mummy  is  now  at  my  house,  and  we  shall  begin  to 
unroll  it  at  eleven  to-night. 

"  Yours,  ever, 

"  Po.VNONNER." 

By  the  time  I  had  reached  the  "  Ponnonner,"  it  struck  me  that 
I  was  as  wide  awake  as  a  man  need  be.  I  leaped  out  of  bed  in 
an  ecstacy,  overthrowing  all  in  my  way ;  dressed  myself  with  a 
rapidity  truly  marvellous  ;  and  set  off,  at  the  top  of  my  speed,  for 
the  Doctor's. 

There  I  found  a  very  eager  company  assembled.  They  had 
been  awaiting  me  with  much  impatience;  the  Mummy  was  ex- 
tended upon  the  dining-table ;  and  the  moment  I  entered,  it* 
examination  was  commenced. 

It  was  one  of  a  pair  brought,  several  years  previously,  by  Cap- 
tain Arthur  Sabretash,  a  cousin  of  Ponnonner's,  from  a  tomb  near 
Eleithias,  in  the  Lybian  Mountains,  a  considerable  distance  above 
Thebes  on  the  Nile.  The  grottoes  at  this  point,  although  less 
magnificent  than  the  Theban  sepulchres,  are  of  higher  interest,  on 
account  of  affording  more  numerous  illustrations  of  the  private  life 
of  the  Egyptians.  The  chamber  from  which  our  specimen  was 
taken,  was  said  to  be  very  rich  in  such  illustrations — the  walls  be- 
ing completely  covered  with  fresco  paintings  and  bas-reliefs,  while 
statues,  vases,  and  Mosaic  work  of  rich  patterns,  indicated  the  vast 
wealth  of  the  deceased. 

The  treasure  had  been  deposited  in  the  Museum  precisely  in 
the  same  condition  in  which  Captain  Sabretash  had  found  it ; — 
that  is  to  say,  the  coffin  had  not  been  disturbed.  For  eight  years 
it  had  thus  stood,  subject  only  externally  to  public  inspection. 
We  had  now,  therefore,  the  complete  Mummy  at  our  disposal ; 
and  to  those  who  are  aware  how  very  rarely  the  unransacked  an- 
tique reaches  our  shores,  it  will  be  evident,  at  once,  that  we  had 
great  reason  to  congratulate  ourselves  upon  our  good  fortune. 

Approaching  the  table,  I  saw  on  it  a  large  box,  or  case,  nearly 
seveu  feet  long,  and  perhaps  three  feet  wide,  by  two  feet  and  a 


494  SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 

half  deep.  It  was  oblong — not  coffin  shaped.  The  material  was 
at  first  supposed  to  be  the  wood  of  the  sycamore  (platanus^)  but, 
upon  cutting  into  it,  we  found  it  to  be  pasteboard,  or,  more  prop- 
erly, papier  mache,  composed  of  papyrus.  It  was  thickly  orna- 
mented with  paintings,  representing  funeral  scenes,  and  other 
mournful  subjects — interspersed  among  which,  in  every  variety  of 
position,  were  certain  series  of  hieroglyphical  characters,  intended, 
no  doubt,  for  the  name  of  the  departed.  By  good  luck,  Mr.  Glid- 
don  formed  one  of  our  party ;  and  he  had  no  difficulty  in  trans- 
lating the  letters,  which  were  simply  phonetic,  and  represented 
the  word,  Allamistakeo. 

We  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  this  case  open  without  injury; 
but,  having  at  length  accomplished  the  task,  we  came  to  a  second, 
coffin-shaped,  and  very  considerably  less  in  size  than  the  exterior 
one,  but  resembling  it  precisely  in  every  other  respect.  The  inter- 
ral  between  the  two  was  filled  with  resin,  which  had,  in  some  de- 
gree, defaced  the  colors  of  the  interior  box. 

Upon  opening  this  latter,  (which  we  did  quite  easily,)  we  ar- 
rived at  a  third  case,  also  coffin-shaped,  and  varying  ffom  the 
second  one  in  no  particular,  except  in  that  of  its  material,  which 
was  cedar,  and  still  emitted  the  peculiar  and  highly  aromatic  odor 
of  that  wood.  Between  the  second  and  the  third  case  there  was 
no  interval — the  one  fitting  accurately  within  the  other. 

Removing  the  third  case,  we  discovered  and  took  out  the  body 
itself.  We  had  expected  to  find  it,  as  usual,  enveloped  in  frequent 
rolls,  or  bandages,  of  linen  ;  but,  in  place  of  these,  we  found  a  sort 
of  sheath,  made  of  papyrus,  and  coated  with  a  layer  of  plaster, 
thickly  gilt  and  painted.  The  paintings  represented  subjects  con- 
nected with  the  various  supposed  duties  of  the  soul,  and  its  presen- 
tation to  different  divinities,  with  numerous  identical  human  figures, 
intended,  very  probably,  as  portraits  of  the  persons  embalmed. 
Extending  from  head  to  foot,  was  a  columnar,  or  perpendicular 
inscription,  in  phonetic  hieroglyphics,  giving  again  his  name  and 
titles,  and  the  names  and  titles  of  his  relations. 

Around  the  neck  thus  unsheathed,  was  a  collar  of  cylindrical 
glass  beads,  diverse  in  color,  and  so  arranged  as  to  form  images 
of  deities,  of  the  scarabseus,  etc.,  with  the  winged  globe.  Around 
the  small  of  the  waist  was  a  similar  collar  or  belt. 


SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY.  495 

Stripping  oft'  the  papyrus,  we  found  the  flesh  in  excellent  preser- 
vation, with  no  perceptible  odor.  The  color  was  reddish.  The 
skin  was  hard,  smooth,  and  glossy.  The  teeth  and  hair  were  in 
good  condition.  The  eyes  (it  seemed)  had  been  removed,  and 
glass  ones  substituted,  which  were  very  beautiful  and  wonderfully 
life-like,  with  the  exception  of  somewhat  too  determined  a  stare. 
The  finger  and  the  nails  were  brilliantly  gilded. 

Mr.  Gliddon  was  of  opinion,  from  the  redness  of  the  epidermis, 
that  the  embalment  had  been  effected  altogether  by  asphaltum ; 
but,  on  scraping  the  surface  with  a  steel  instrument,  and  throwing 
into  the  fire  some  of  the  powder  thus  obtained,  the  flavor  of  cam- 
phor and  other  sweet-scented  gums  became  apparent. 

We  searched  the  corpse  very  carefully  for  the  usual  openings 
through  which  the  entrails  are  extracted,  but,  to  our  surprise, 
we  could  discover  none.  No  member  of  the  party  was  at  that 
period  aware  that  entire  or  unopened  mummies  are  not  unfrequently 
met.  The  brain  it  was  customary  to  withdraw  through  the  nose  ; 
the  intestines  through  an  incision  in  the  side ;  the  body  was  then 
shaved,  washed,  and  salted;  then  laid  aside  for  several  weeks,  when 
Ihe  operation  of  embalming,  properly  so  called,  began. 

As  no  trace  of  an  opening  could  be  found,  Doctor  Ponnonner 
was  preparing  his  instruments  for  dissection,  when  I  observed  that 
1  was  then  past  two  o'clock.  Hereupon  it  was  agreed  to  post- 
pone the  internal  examination  until  the  next  evening ;  and  we 
were  about  to  separate  for  the  present,  when  some  one  suggested 
an  experiment  or  two  with  the  Voltaic  pile. 

The  application  of  electricity  to  a  Mummy  three  or  four  thou- 
sand years  old  at  the  least,  was  an  idea,  if  not  very  sage,  still  suffi- 
ciently original,  and  we  all  caught  it  at  once.  About  one-tenth 
in  earnest  and  nine-tenths  in  jest,  we  arranged  a  battery  in  the 
Doctor's  study,  and  conveyed  thither  the  Egyptian. 

It  was  only  after  much  trouble  that  we  succeeded  in  laying 
bare  some  portions  of  the  temporal  muscle  which  appeared  of  less 
stony  rigidity  than  other  parts  of  the  frame,  but  which,  as  we  had 
anticipated,  of  course,  gave  no  indication  of  galvanic  susceptibility 
when  brought  in  contact  with  the  wire.  This,  the  first  trial,  in- 
deed, seemed  decisive,  and.  with  a  hearty  laugh  at  our  own  ab- 
surdity, we  were  bidding  each  other  good  night,  when  my  eyes, 


490  SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 

happening  to  fall  upon  those  of  the  Mummy,  were  there  imme- 
diately riveted  in  amazement.  My  brief  glance,  in  fact,  had  suf- 
ficed to  assure  me  that  the  orbs  which  we  had  all  supposed  to  be 
glass,  and  which  were  originally  noticeable  for  a  certain  wild  stare, 
were  now  so  far  covered  by  the  lids,  that  only  a  small  portion  of 
the  tunica  albugixea  remained  visible. 

With  a  shout  I  called  attention  to  the  fact,  and  it  became  im- 
mediately obvious  to  all. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  was  alarmed  at  the  phenomenon,  because 
"alarmed"  is,  in  my  case,  not  exactly  the  word.  It  is  possible, 
however,  that,  but  for  the  Brown  Stout,  I  might  have  been  a  little 
nervous.  As  for  the  rest  of  the  company,  they  really  made  no 
attempt  at  concealing  the  downright  fright  which  possessed  them. 
Doctor  Ponnonner  was  a  man  to  be  pitied.  Mr.  Gliddon,  by  some 
peculiar  process,  rendered  himself  invisible.  Mr.  Silk  Bucking- 
ham, I  fancy,  will  scarcely  be  so  bold  as  to  deny  that  he  made  his 
way,  upon  all  fours,  under  the  table. 

After  the  first  shock  of  astonishment,  however,  we  resolved,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  upon  farther  experiment  forthwith.  Our  ope- 
rations were  now  directed  against  the  great  toe  of  the  right  foot. 
We  made  an  incision  over  the  outside  of  the  exterior  os  sesamoi- 
deum  pollicis  pedis,  and  thus  got  at  the  root  of  the  abductor  mus- 
cle. Re-adjusting  the  battery,  we  now  applied  the  fluid  to  the 
bisected  nerves — when,  with  a  movement  of  exceeding  life-like- 
ness, the  Mummy  first  drew  up  its  right  knee  so  as  to  bring  it 
nearly  in  contact  with  the  abdomen,  and  then,  straightening  the 
limb  with  inconceivable  force,  bestowed  a  kick  upon  Doctor  Pon- 
nonner, which  had  the  effect  of  discharging  that  gentleman,  like 
an  arrow  from  a  catapult,  through  a  window  into  the  street  below. 

We  rushed  out  en  masse  to  bring  in  the  mangled  remains  of 
the  victim,  but  had  the  happiness  to  meet  him  upon  the  staircase, 
coming  up  in  an  unaccountable  hurry,  brimfull  of  the  most  ardent 
philosophy,  and  more  than  ever  impressed  with  the  necessity  of 
prosecuting  our  experiments  with  rigor  and  with  zeal. 

It  was  by  his  advice,  accordingly,  that  we  made,  upon  the  spot, 
a  profound  incision  into  the  tip  of  the  subject's  nose,  while  the 
Doctor  himself,  laying  violent  hands  upon  it,  pulled  it  into  veho.m 
««»t  contact  with  the  wire. 


SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY.  4D7 

Morally  ar.d  physically — figuratively  and  literally — was  the 
effect  electric.  In  the  first  place,  the  corpse  opened  its  eyes  and 
winked  very  rapidly  for  several  minutes,  as  does  Mr.  Barnes  in 
the  pantomime  ;  in  the  second  place,  it  sneezed  ;  in  the  third,  it 
sat  upon  end ;  in  the  fourth,  it  shook  its  fist  in  Doctor  Ponnon- 
ner's  face  ;  in  the  fifth,  turning  to  Messieurs  Gliddon  and  Bucking- 
ham, it  addressed  them,  in  very  capital  Egyptian,  thus  : 

"  I  must  say,  gentlemen,  that  I  am  as  much  surprised  as  T  am 
mortified,  at  your  behavior.  Of  Doctor  Ponnonner  nothing  bet- 
ter was  to  be  expected.  He  is  a  poor  little  fat  fool  who  know* 
no  better.  I  pity  and  forgive  him.  But  you,  Mr.  Gliddon — and 
you,  Silk — who  have  travelled  and  resided  in  Egypt  until  one 
might  imagine  you  to  the  manor  born — you,  I  say,  who  have 
been  so  much  among  us  that  you  speak  Egyptian  fully  as  well, 
I  think,  as  you  write  your  mother  tongue — you,  whom  Lhavo 
always  been  led  to  regard  as  the  firm  friend  of  the  mummies — 
I  really  did  anticipate  more  gentlemanly  conduct  from  you.  What 
am  I  to  think  of  your  standing  quietly  by  and  seeing  me  thus 
unhandsomely  used  ?  What  am  I  to  suppose  by  your  permitting 
Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  to  strip  me  of  my  coffins,  and  my  clothes, 
in  this  wretchedly  cold  climate  ?  In  what  light  (to  come  to  the 
point)  am  I  to  regard  your  aiding  and  abetting  that  miserable  little 
villain,  Doctor  Ponnonner,  in  pulling  me  by  the  nose  ?" 

It  will  be  taken  for  granted,  no  doubt,  that  upon  hearing  this 
speech  iinder  the  circumstances,  we  all  either  made  for  the  door, 
or  fell  into  violent  hysterics,  or  went  off  in  a  general  swoon.  One 
of  these  three  things  was,  I  say,  to  be  expected.  Indeed  each  and 
all  of  these  lines  of  conduct  might  have  been  very  plausibly  pur- 
sued. And,  upon  my  word,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  how  or  why 
it  was  that  we  pursued  neither  the  one  or  the  other.  But,  per- 
haps, the  true  reason  is  to  be  sought  in  the  spirit  of  the  age,  which 
proceeds  by  the  rule  of  contraries  altogether,  and  is  now  usually 
admitted  as  the  solution  of  everything  in  the  way  of  paradox  and 
impossibility.  Or,  perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  only  the  Mummy's 
exceedingly  natural  and  matter-of-course  air  that  divested  his  words 
of  the  terrible.  However  this  may  be,  the  facts  are  clear,  and  no 
member  of  our  party  betrayed  any  very  particular  trepidation,  or 
seemed  to  consider  that  anything  had  gone  very  especially  wrong. 


498  SOME  WO  IDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 

For  rny  part  I  was  convinced  it  was  all  right,  and  merely  step- 
ped aside,  out  of  the  range  of  the  Egyptian's  fist.  Doctor  Pon- 
nonner  thrust  his  hands  into  his  breeches'  pockets,  looked  hard  at 
the  Mummy,  and  grew  excessively  red  in  the  face.  Mr.  Gliddon 
stroked  his  whiskers  and  drew  up  the  collar  of  his  shirt.  Mr. 
Buckingham  hung  down  his  head,  and  put  his  right  thumb  into 
the  left  corner  of  his  mouth. 

The  Egyptian  regarded  him  with  a  severe  countenance  for 
some  minutes,  and  at  length,  with  a  sneer,  said  : 

"  Why  don't  you  speak,  Mr.  Buckingham  ?  Did  you  hear 
what  I  asked  you,  or  not  ?  Do  take  your  thumb  out  of  your 
mouth !" 

Mr.  Buckingham,  hereupon,  gave  a  slight  start,  took  his  right 
thumb  out  of  the  left  corner  of  his  mouth,  and,  by  way  of  indem- 
nification, inserted  his  left  thumb  in  the  right  corner  of  the  aper- 
ture above-mentioned. 

Not  being  able  to  get  an  answer  from  Mr.  B.,  the  figure  turned 
peevishly  to  Mr.  Gliddon,  and,  in  a  peremptory  tone,  demanded 
in  general  terms  what  we  all  meant. 

Mr.  Gliddon  replied  at  great  length,  in  phonetics  ;  and  but  for 
the  deficiency  of  American  printing-offices  in  hieroglyphical  type, 
it  would  afford  me  much  pleasure  to  record  here,  in  the  original, 
the  whole  of  his  very  excellent  speech. 

I  may  as  well  take  this  occasion  to  remark,  that  all  the  subse- 
quent conversation  in  which  the  Mummy  took  a  part,  was  carried 
on  in  primitive  Egyptian,  through  the  medium  (so  far  as  concerned 
myself  and  other  untravelled  members  of  the  company) — through 
the  medium,  I  say,  of  Messieurs  Gliddon  and  Buckingham,  ns 
interpreters.  These  gentlemen  spoke  the  mother-tongue  of  tho 
mummy  with  inimitable  fluency  and  grace  ;  but  I  could  not  help 
observing  that  (owing,  no  doubt,  to  the  introduction  of  images 
entirely  modern,  and,  of  course,  entirely  novel  to  the  stranger,) 
the  two  travellers  were  reduced,  occasionally,  to  the  employment 
of  sensible  forms  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  a  particular  mean- 
ing. Mr.  Gliddon,  at  one  period,  for  example,  could  not  make  the 
Egyptian  comprehend  the  term  "politics,"  until  he  sketched  upon 
the  wall,  with  a  bit  of  charcoal,  a  little  carbuncle  nosed  gentleman, 
out  at  elbows,  standing  upon  a  s'.  ump,  with  his  left  leg  drawn 


SOME  WORDS  *WITH  A  MUMMY.  499 

back,  liis  right  arm  thrown  forward,  with  his  fist  shut,  the  eyes 
rolled  up  toward  Heaven,  and  the  mouth  open  at  an  angle  of 
ninety  degrees.  Just  in  the  same  way  Mr.  Buckingham  failed  to 
convey  the  absolutely  modern  idea,  u  whig,"  until,  (at  Doctor 
1'onnonner's  suggestion,)  he  grew  very  pale  in  the  face,  and  con 
scnted  to  take  oft  his  own. 

It  will  be  readily  understood  that  Mr.  Gliddon's  discourse  turned 
chiefly  upon  the  vast  benefits  accruing  to  science  from  the  unrolling 
and  disemboweling  of  mummies;  apologizing,  upon  this  score, 
for  any  disturbance  that  might  have  been  occasioned  kirn,  in  par- 
ticular, the  individual  Mummy  called  Allamistakeo ;  and  con- 
cluding with  a  mere  hint,  (for  it  could  scarcely  be  considered 
more,)  that,  as  these  little  matters  were  now  explained,  it  might 
be  as  well  to  proceed  with  the  investigation  intended.  Here 
Doctor  Ponnonner  made  ready  his  instruments. 

In  regard  to  the  latter  suggestions  of  the  orator,  it  appears  that 
Allamistakeo  had  certain  scruples  of  conscience,  the  nature  of 
which  I  did  not  distinctly  learn  ;  but  he  expressed  himself  satis- 
fied with  the  apologies  tendered,  and,  getting  down  from  the  table, 
shook  hands  with  the  company  all  round. 

AVhen  this  ceremony  was  at  an  end,  we  immediately  busied 
ourselves  in  repairing  the  damages  which  our  subject  had  sus- 
tained from  the  scalpel.  We  sewed  up  the  wound  in  his  temple, 
bandaged  his  foot,  and  applied  a  square  inch  of  black  plaster  to 
the  tip  of  his  nose. 

It  was  now  observed  that  the  Count,  (this  was  the  title,  it 
seems,  of  Allamistakeo,)  had  a  slight  fit  of  shivering — no  doubt 
from  the  cold.  The  doctor  immediately  repaired  to  his  wardrobe. 
and  soon  returned  with  a  black  dress  coat,  made  in  Jennings'  best 
manner,  a  pair  of  sky-blue  plaid  pantaloons  with  straps,  a  pink 
gingham  chemise,  a  flapped  vest  of  brocade,  a  white  sack  overcoat, 
a  walking  cane  with  a  hook,  a  hat  with  no  brim,  patent-leather 
boots  straw-colored  kid  gloves,  an  eye-glass,  a  pair  of  whiskers, 
and  a  waterfall  cravat.  Owing  to  the  disparity  of  size  between 
the  C^unt  and  the  doctor,  (the  proportion  being  as  two  to  one,) 
there  was  some  little  difficulty  in  adjusting  tliese  habiliments  upon 
the  person  of  the  Egyptian  ;  but  when  all  was  arranged,  he  might 
have  been  said  to  be  dressed.  Mr.  Gliddon.  therefore,  gave  him 


500  SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY 

his  ami,  and  led  him  to  a  comfortable  chair  by  the  fire,  while  the 
doctor  rang  the  bell  upon  the  spot  and  ordered  a  supply  of  cigars 
and  wine. 

The  conversation  soon  grew  animated.  Much  curiosity  was,  of 
course,  expressed  in  regard  to  the  somewhat  remarkable  fact  of 
Allamistakeo's  still  remaining  alive. 

''  I  should  have  thought,"  observed  Mr.  Buckingham,  "  that  it 
is  high  time  you  were  dead." 

"  Why."  replied  the  Count,  very  much  astonished,  "  I  am  little 
more  than  neven  nundred  years  old  !  My  father  lived  a  thousand, 
and  was  by  no  means  in  his  dotage  when  he  died." 

Here  ensued  a  brisk  series  of  questions  and  computations,  by 
means  of  v?hich  it  became  evident  that  the  antiquity  of  the 
Mummy  had  been  grossly  misjudged.  It  had  been  five  thousand 
and  fifty  yt«ars,  and  some  months,  since  he  had  been  consigned  to 
the  catacombs  at  Eleithias. 

"  But  my  remark,"  resumed  Mr.  Buckingham,  "  had  no  refer- 
ence to  your  age  at  the  period  of  interment ;  (I  am  willing  to 
grant,  in  fact,  that  you  are  still  a  young  man,)  and  my  allusion 
was  to  the  immensity  of  time  during  which,  by  your  own  showing, 
you  must  have  been  done  up  in  asphaltum." 

"  In  ^hat  ?"  said  the  Count. 

"  In  asphaltum,"  persisted  Mr.  B. 

"  All,  yes  ;  I  have  some  faint  notion  of  what  you  mean ;  it 
might  be  made  to  answer,  no  doubt, — but  in  my  time  we  em- 
ployed scarcely  anything  else  than  the  Bichloride  of  Mercury." 

"  But  what  we  are  especially  at  a  loss  to  understand,"  said 
Doctor  Ponnonner,  "is  how  it  happens  that,  having  been  dead 
and  buried  in  Egypt,  five  thousand  years  ago,  you  are  here  tc-day 
all  alive,  and  looking  so  delightfully  well." 

"  Had  I  been,  as  you  say,  dead"  replied  the  Count,  "  it  is  mor? 
than  probable  that  dead  I  should  still  be ;  for  I  perceive  you  aro 
yet  in  the  infancy  of  Galvanism,  and  cannot  accomplish  with  it 
what  was  a  common  thing  among  us  in  the  old  days.  But  the 
fact  is,  I  fell  into  catalepsy,  and  it  was  considered  by  my  best 
friends  that  I  was  either  dead  or  should  be ;  they  accordingly  em- 
balmed me  at  once — I  presume  you  are  aware  of  the  chief  prin- 
ciple of  the  embalming  process  ?" 


SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY.  501 

"  Why,  not  altogether." 

"  Ah,  I  perceive  ; — a  deplorable  condition  of  ignorance !  Well, 
I  cannot  enter  into  details  just  now  :  but  it  is  necessary  to  explain 
that  to  embalm,  (properly  speaking,)  in  Egypt,  was  to  arrest  indefi 
nitely  all  the  animal  functions  subjected  to  the  process.  I  use  the 
word  '  animal  in  its  widest  sense,  as  including  the  physical  not 
more  than  the  moral  and  vital  being.  I  repeat  that  the  leading 
principle  of  embalmment  consisted,  with  us,  in  the  immediately 
arresting,  and  holding  in  perpetual  abeyance,  all  the  animal  func- 
tions subjected  to  the  process.  To  be  brief,  in  whatever  condition 
the  individual  was,  at  the  period  of  embalmment,  in  that  condition 
he  remained.  Now;  as  it  is  my  good  fortune  to  be  of  the  blood 
of  the  Scaraboeus,  I  was  embalmed  alive,  as  you  see  me  at  pre- 
sent." 

"  The  blood   of  the  Scarabceus  !"  exclaimed  Doctor  Ponnonner. 

"  Yes.  The  Scaraboeus  was  the  insignium,  or  the  '  arms,'  of  a 
very  distinguished  and  very  rare  patrician  family.  To  be  '  of  the 
blood  of  the  Scaraboeus,'  is  merely  to  be  one  of  that  family  of 
which  the  Scaraboeus  is  the  insignium.  I  speak  figuratively  " 

"  But  what  has  this  to  do  with  your  being  alive  ?" 

"  Why  it  is  the  general  custom  in  Egypt,  to  deprive  a  corpse, 
before  embalmment,  of  its  bowels  and  brains  ;  the  race  of  Scaraboei 
alone  did  not  coincide  with  the  custom.  Had  I  not  been  a  Scara- 
boeus, therefore,  I  should  have  been  without  bowels  and  brains ; 
and  without  either  it  is  inconvenient  to  live." 

"  I  perceive  that ;"  said  Mr.  Buckingham,  "  and  I  presume  that 
all  the  entire  mummies  that  ccme  to  hand  are  of  the  race  of 
Scarabcei." 

"  Beyond  doubt." 

"  I  thought,"  said  Mr.  Gliddon,  very  meekly,  "  that  the  Scara- 
bceus was  one  of  the  Egyptian  gods." 

"  One  of  the  Egyptian  what  ?"  exclaimed  the  Mummy,  starting 
to  its  feet. 

"  Gods  !"  repeated  the  traveller. 

"Mr.  Gliddon,  I  really  am  astonished  to  hear  you  talk  in  this 
style,"  said  the  Count,  resuming  his  chair.  "  No  nation  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth  has  ever  acknowledged  more  than  one  god.  The 
Scaraboeus,  the  Ibis,  etc.,  were  with  us,  (as  similar  creatures 


502  SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 

have  been  with  others)  the  symbols,  or  media,  through  which  wo 
offered  worship  to  the  Creator  too  august  to  be  more  directly  ap- 
proached." 

There  was  here"  a  pause.  At  length  the  colloquy  was  renewed 
by  Doctor  Ponnonner. 

"  It  is  not  improbable,  then,  from  what  you  have  explained," 
said  he,  "that  among  the  catacombs  near  the  Nile,  there  may  exist 
other  mummies  of  the  Scaraboeus  tribe,  in  a  condition  of  vitality." 

"  There  can  be  no  question  of  it,"  replied  the  Count ;  "  all 
the  Scaraboei  embalmed  accidentally  while  alive,  are  alive.  Even 
some  of  those  purposely  so  embalmed,  may  have  been  overlooked 
by  their  executors,  and  still  remain  in  the  tombs." 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  explain,"  I  said,  "  what  you  mean 
by  '  purposely  so  embalmed  ?'  " 

"  With  great  pleasure,"  answered  the  Mummy,  after  surveying 
me  leisurely  through  his  eye-glass — for  it  was  the  first  time  I  had 
ventured  to  address  him  a  direct  question. 

"With  great  pleasure,"  he  said.  "The  usual  duration  of  man's 
life,  in  my  time,  was  about  eight  hundred  years.  Few  men  died, 
unless  by  most  extraordinary  accident,  before  the  age  of  six  hun- 
dred ;  few  lived  longer  than  a  decade  of  centuries ;  but  eight 
were  considered  the  natural  term.  After  the  discovery  of  the 
embalming  principle,  as  I  have  already  described  it  to  you,  it  oc- 
curred to  our  philosophers  that  a  laudable  curiosity  might  be 
gratified,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  interests  of  science  much  ad- 
vanced, by  living  this  natural  term  in  instalments.  In  the  case 
of  history,  indeed,  experience  demonstrated  that  something  of  this 
kind  was  indispensable.  An  historian,  for  example,  having  at- 
tained the  age  of  five  hundred,  would  write  a  book  with  great 
labor  and  then  get  himself  carefully  embalmed ;  leaving  instruc- 
tions to  his  executors  pro.  tern.,  that  they  should  cause  him  to  be 
revivified  after  the  lapse  of  a  certain  period — say  five  or  six  hun- 
dred years.  Resuming  existence  at  the  expiration  of  this  time,  he 
would  invariably  find  his  great  work  converted  into  a  species  of 
hap-nazard  note-book — that  is  to  say,  into  a  kind  of  literary  arena 
for  the  conflicting  guesses,  riddles,  and  personal  squabbles  of  whole 
herds  of  exasperated  commentators.  These  guesses,  etc.,  which 
passed  under  the  name  of  annotations,  or  emendations,  were  found 


SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY.  503 

so  completely  to  have  enveloped,  distorted,  and  overwhelmed  the 
text,  that  the  author  had  to  go  about  with  a  lantern  to  discover 
his  own  book.  When  discovered,  it  was  never  worth  the  trouble 
of  the  search.  After  re-writing  it  throughout,  it  was  regarded  as 
the  boundeu  duty  of  the  historian  to  set  himself  to  work,  immedi- 
ately, in  correcting  from  his  own  private  knowledge  and  experi- 
ence, the  traditions  of  the  day  concerning  the  epoch  at  which  ho 
had  originally  lived.  Now  this  process  of  re-scription  and  perso- 
nal rectification,  pursued  by  various  individual  sages,  from  time  to 
time,  had  the  effect  of  preventing  our  history  from  degenerating 
into  absolute  fable." 

"  I  Deo  your  pardon,"  said  Doctoi  Ponnonner  at  this  point,  lay 
ing  his  hand  gently  upon  the  arm  of  the  Egyptian — "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  sir,  but  may  I  presume  to  interrupt  you  for  one  mo- 
ment ?" 

" By  all  means,  sir"  replied  the  Count,  drawing  up. 

"  I  merely  wished  to  ask  you  a  question,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  You  mentioned  the  historian's  personal  correction  of  traditions 
respecting  his  own  epoch.  Pray,  sir,  upon  an  average,  what  pro- 
portion of  these  Kabbala  were  usually  found  to  be  right  ?" 

"  The  Kabbala,  as  you  properly  term  them,  sir,  were  generally 
discovered  to  be  precisely  on  a  par  with  the  facts  recorded  in  the 
un-re-written  histories  themselves ; — that  is  to  say,  not  one  indi- 
vidual iota  of  either,  was  ever  known,  under  any  circumstances,  to 
be  not  totally  and  radically  wrong." 

"  But  since  it  is  quite  clear,"  resumed  the  Doctor,  "  that  at 
least  five  thousand  years  have  elapsed  since  your  entombment,  I 
take  it  for  granted  that  your  histories  at  that  period,  if  not  your 
traditions,  were  sufficiently  explicit  on  that  one  topic  of  universal 
interest,  the  Creation,  which  took  place,  as  I  presume  you  are 
aware,  only  about  ten  centuries  before." 

"  Sir  !"  said  the  Count  Allamistakeo. 

The  Doctor  repeated  his  remarks,  but  it  was  only  after  much 
additional  explanation,  that  the  foreigner  could  be  made  to  com- 
prehend them.  The  latter  at  length  said,  hesitatingly  : 

"  The  ideas  you  have  suggested  are  to  me,  I  confess,  utterly 
novel.  During  my  time  I  never  knew  any  one  to  entertain  so 
singular  a  fancy  as  that  the  universe  (or  this  world  if  you  will 


504  SOME    WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 

have  it  so,)  ever  had  a  beginning  at  all.  I  remember  once,  and 
once  only,  hearing  something  remotely  hinted,  by  a  man  of  many 
speculations,  concerning  the  origin  of  the  human  race  ;  and  by 
this  individual,  the  very  word  Adam,  (or  Red  Earth)  which  you 
make  use  of,  was  employed.  He  employed  it,  however,  in  a 
generical  sense,  with  reference  to  the  spontaneous  germinatiop 
from  rank  soil  (just  as  a  thousand  of  the  lower  genera  of  crea 
tures  are  germinated) — the  spontaneous  germination,  I  say,  of 
five  vast  hordes  of  men,  simultaneously  upspringing  in  tive  dis 
tinct  and  nearly  equal  divisions  of  the  globe." 

Here,  in  general,  the  company  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  one 
or  two  of  us  touched  our  foreheads  with  a  very  significant  air. 
Mr.  Silk  Buckingham,  first  glancing  slightly  at  the  occiput  and 
then  .at  the  siniciput  of  Allamistakeo,  spoke  as  follows  : 

"  The  long  duration  of  human  life  in  your  time,  together  with 
the  occasional  practice  of  passing  it,  as  you  have  explained,  in 
instalments,  must  have  had,  indeed,  a  strong  tendency  to  the  gen- 
eral development  and  conglomeration  of  knowledge.  I  presume, 
therefore,  that  we  are  to  attribute  the  marked  inferiority  of  the 
old  Egyptians  in  all  particulars  of  science,  when  compared  with 
the  moderns,  and  more  especially,  with  the  Yankees,  altogether  to 
the  superior  solidity  of  the  Egyptian  skull." 

"  I  confess  again,"  replied  the  Count,  with  much  suavity,  "  that 
I  am  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  you ;  pray,  to  what  par- 
ticulars of  science  do  you  allude  ?" 

Here  our  whole  party,  joining  voices,  detailed,  at  great  length, 
the  assumptions  of  phrenology  and  the  marvels  of  animal  mag- 
netism. 

Having  heard  us  to  an  end,  the  Count  proceeded  to  relate  a 
few  anecdotes,  which  rendered  it  evident  that  prototypes  of  Gall 
and  Sf  urzheim  had  flourished  and  faded  in  Egypt  so  long  ago  as 
to  have  been  nearly  forgotten,  and  that  the  manoeuvres  of  Mes- 
mer  were  really  very  contemptible  tricks  when  put  in  collation 
with  the  positive  miracles  of  the  Theban  savans,  who  created  lico 
and  a  great  many  other  similar  things. 

I  here  asked  the  Count  if  his  people  were  able  to  calculate 
Hjlipses.  He  smiled  rather  contemptuously,  and  said  they  were. 

Tliis  put  me  a  little  out,  but  I  began  to  make  other  inquiries 


SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY.  505 

in  regard  to  his  astronomical  knowledge,  when  a  member  of  the 
company,  who  had  never  as  yet  opened  his  month,  whispered  in 
my  ear,  that  for  information  on  this  head,  I  had  better  consult 
Ptolemy,  (whoever  Ptolemy  is,)  as  well  as,  one  Plutarch  de  facie 
lunct:. 

I  then  questioned  the  Mummy  about  burning-glasses  and 
enses,  and,  in  general,  about  the  manufacture  of  glass  ;  but  1  had 
not  made  an  end  of  my  queries  before  the  silent  member  aga'R 
touched  me  quietly  on  the  elbow,  and  begged  me  for  God's  sake 
to  take  a  peep  at  Diodorus  Siculus.  As  for  the  Count,  he  merely 
asked  me,  in  the  way  of  reply,  if  we  moderns  possessed  any  such 
microscopes  as  would  enable  us  to  cut  cameos  in  the  style  of  the 
Egyptians.  While  I  was  thinking  how  I  should  an?wer  this  ques- 
tion, little  Doctor  Ponnonner  committed  himself  in  a  very  extra 
ordinary  way. 

"  Look  at  our  architecture  !"  he  exclaimed,  greatly  to  the  indig- 
nation of  both  the  travellers,  who  pinched  him  black  and  blue  to 
no  purpose. 

"Look,"  he  cried  with  enthusiasm,  "at  the  Bowling-Green  Foun- 
tain in  New- York  !  or  if  this  be  too  vast  a  contemplation,  regard 
for  a  moment  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  D.  C. !" — and  the  good 
little  medical  man  went  on  to  detail,  very  minutely,  the  propor- 
tions of  the  fabric  to  which  he  referred.  He  explained  that  the 
portico  alone  was  adorned  with  no  less  than  four  and  twenty  col 
umns,  five  feet  in  diameter,  and  ten  feet  apart. 

The  Count  said  that  he  regretted  not  being  able  to  remember, 
just  at  that  moment,  the  precise  dimensions  of  any  one  of  tin 
principal  buildings  of  the  city  of  Aznac,  whose  foundations  wer: 
laid  in  the  night  of  Time,  but  the  ruins  of  which  were  still  stand 
ing,  at  the  epoch  of  his  entombment,  in  a  vast  plain  of  sand  to 
the  westward  of  Thebes.  He  recollected,  however,  (talking  of 
porticoes)  that  one  affixed  to  an  inferior  palace  in  a  kind  of  suburb 
called  Carnac,  consisted  of  a  hundred  and  forty-four  columns, 
thirty-seven  feet  each  in  circumference,  and  twenty-five  feet  apart. 
The  approach  of  this  portico,  from  the  Nile,  was  through  an  ave- 
nue two  miles  long,  composed  of  sphynxes,  statues  and  obelisks, 
twenty,  sixty,  and  a  hundred  feet  in  height.  The  palace  itself  (aa 
well  as  he  could  remember)  was,  in  one  direction,  two  miles  long. 


506  SOME  WORDS  WITH  A  MUMMY. 

and  might  have  been  altogether,  about  seven  in  circuit.  Its  walls 
were  richly  painted  all  over,  within  and  without,  with  hiero- 
glyphics. He  would  not  pretend  to  assert  that  even  fifty  or  sixty 
of  the  Doctor's  Capitols  might  have  been  built  within  these  walk, 
but  he  was  by  no  means  sure  that  two  or  three  hundred  of  them 
might  not  have  been  squeezed  in  with  some  trouble.  That  palace 
at  Carnac  was  an  insignificant  little  building  after  all.  He,  (the 
<Count)  however,  could  not  conscientiously  refuse  to  admit  the  in- 
genuity, magnificence,  and  superiority  of  the  Fountain  at  the  Bow- 
ling Green,  as  described  by  the  Doctor.  Nothing  like  it,  he  was 
forced  to  allow,  had  ever  been  seen  in  Egypt  or  elsewhere. 

I  here  asked  the  Count  what  he  had  to  say  to  our  railroads. 

"  Nothing,"  he  replied,  "  in  particular."  They  were  rather 
slight,  rather  ill-conceived,  and  clumsily  put  together.  They  could 
not  be  compared,  of  course,  with  the  vast,  level,  direct,  iron-grooved 
causeways,  upon  which  the  Egyptians  conveyed  entire  temples 
and  solid  obelisks  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  altitude. 

I  spoke  of  our  gigantic  mechanical  forces. 

He  agreed  that  we  knew  something  in  that  way,  but  inquired 
how  I  should  have  gone  to  work  in  getting  up  the  imposts  on  the 
lintels  of  even  the  little  palace  at  Carnac. 

This  question  I  concluded  not  to  hear,  and  demanded  if  he  had 
any  idea  of  Artesian  wells ;   but  he  simply  raised  his  eye-brows 
while  Mr.  Gliddon  winked  at  me   very  hard  and  said,  in  a  low 
tone,  that  one  had  been  recently  discovered  by  the  engineers  em 
ployed  to  bore  for  water  in  the  Great  Oasis. 

I  then  mentioned  our  steel ;  but  the  foreigner  elevated  his  nose, 
and  asked  me  if  our  steel  could  have  executed  the  sharp  carved 
work  seen  on  the  obelisks,  and  which  was  wrought  altogether  by 
edge-tools  of  copper. 

This  disconcerted  us  so  greatly  that  we  thought  it  advisable  to 
vary  the  attack  to  Metaphysics.  We  sent  for  a  copy  of  a  book 
called  the  "  Dial,"  and  read  out  of  it  a  chapter  or  two  about 
something  which  is  not  very  clear,  but  which  the  Bostonians  call 
the  Great  Movement  or  Progress. 

The  Count  merely  said  that  Great  Movements  were  awfully 
common  things  in  his  day,  and  as  for  Progress,  it  was  at  one  time 
quite  a  nuisance,  but  il  never  progressed. 


SOME  WORDS   WITH  A  MUMMY.  507 

"We  then  spoke  of  the  great  beauty  and  importance  of  Demo- 
cracy, and  were  at  much  trouble  in  impressing  the  Count  with  a 
due  sense  of  the  advantages  we  enjoyed  in  living  where  there  was 
suffrage  ad  libitum,  and  no  king. 

He  listened  with  marked  interest,  and  in  fact  seemed  not  a  little 
amused.     When  we  had  done,  he  said  that,  a  great  while  ago, 
there  had  occurred  something  of  a  very  similar  sort.     Thirteen 
Egyptian  provinces  determined  all  at  once  to  be  free,  and  so  set  a 
magnificent  example  to   the  rest  of  mankind.     They  assembled 
their  wise  men,  and  concocted  the  most  ingenious  constitution  it 
•s  possible  to  conceive.     For  a  while   they  managed  remarkably 
well ;  only  their  habit  of  bragging   was   prodigious.     The  thing 
ended,  however,  in  the  consolidation  of  the  thirteen  states,  with 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  others,  in  the  most  odious  and  insupporta- 
ble despotism  that  ever  was  heard  of  upon  the  face  of  the  Earth. 
I  asked  what  was  the  name  of  the  usurping  tyrant. 
As  well  as  the  Count  could  recollect,  it  was  Mob. 
Not  knowing  what  to   say  to  this,  I  raised  my  voice,  and  de- 
plored the  Egyptian  ignorance  of  steam. 

The  Count  looked  at  me  with  much  astonishment,  but  made  no 
answer.  The  silent  gentleman,  however,  gave  me  a  violent  nudge 
in  the  ribs  with  his  elbows — told  me  I  had  sufficiently  exposed 
myself  for  once — and  demanded  if  I  was  really  such  a  fool  as  not 
to  know  that  the  modern  steam  engine  is  derived  from  the  inven- 
tion of  Hero,  through  Solomon  de  Caus. 

We  were  now  in  imminent  danger  of  being  discomfited ;  but, 
as  good  luck  would  have  it,  Doctor  Ponnonner,  having  rallied,  re- 
turned to  our  rescue,  and  inquired  if  the  people  of  Egypt  would 
seriously  pretend  to  rival  the  moderns  in  the  all  important  partic- 
ular of  dress. 

The  Count,  at  this,  glanced  downwards  to  the  straps  of  his  pan 
taloons,  and  then  taking  hold  of  the  end  of  one  of  his  coat-tails, 
held  it  up  close  to  his  eyes  for  some  minutes.     Letting  it  fall,  at 
last,  his  mouth  extended  itself  very  gradually  from  ear  to  ear  ;  but 
I  do  not  remember  that  he  said  anything  in  the  way  of  reply. 

Hereupon  we  recovered  our  spirits,  and  the  Doctor,  approach- 
ing the  Mummy  with  great  dignity,  desired  it  to  say  candidly, 
upon  its  honor  as  a  gentleman,  if  the  Egyptians  had  comprehend- 


508  SOME   WORDS   WITH  A  MUMMY. 

ed,  at  any  period,  the  manufacture  of  either  Ponnonner's  lozenges 
or  Brandreth's  pills. 

We  looked,  with  profound  anxiety,  for  an  answer  ; — but  in  vain. 
It  was  not  forthcoming.  The  Egyptian  blushed  and  hung  down 
his  head.  Never  was  triumph  more  consummate  ;  never  wa? 
defeat  borne  with  so  ill  a  grace.  Indeed,  I  could  not  endure  thfl 
spectacle  of  the  poor  Mummy's  mortification.  I  reached  my  hat 
bowed  to  him  stiffly,  and  took  leave. 

Upon  getting  home  I  found  it  past  four  o'clock,  and  went  imme- 
diately to-bed.  It  is  now  ten,  A.  M.  I  have  been  up  since  seven, 
penning  these  memoranda  for  the  benefit  of  my  family  and  of 
mankind.  The  former  I  shall  behold  no  more.  My  wife  is  a 
shrew.  The  truth  is,  I  am  heartily  sick  of  this  life  and  of  the 
nineteenth  century  in  general.  I  am  convinced  that  everything  is 
going  wrong.  Besides,  I  am  anxious  to  know  who  will  be  Presi- 
dent in  2045.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  I  shave  and  swallow  a  cup 
of  coffee,  I  shall  just  step  over  to  Ponnonner's  and  get  embalmed 
for  a  co  iple  of  hundred  years. 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^A* 


Mit.  STEPIIEXS  lias  here  given  us  two  volumes  of  more  than 
ordinary  interest — written  with  a  freshness  of  manner,  and 
evincing  a  manliness  of  feeling,  both  worthy  of  high  considera- 
tion. Although  in  some  respects  deficient,  the  work  too  presents 
some  points  of  moment  to  the  geographer,  to  the  antiquarian,  and 
more  especially  to  the  theologian.  Viewed  only  as  one  of  a 
class  of  writings  whose  direct  tendency  is  to  throw  light  upon 
the  Book  of  Books,  it  has  strong  claims  upon  the  attention  of  all 
who  read.  While  the  vast  importance  of  critical  and  philological 
research  in  dissipating  the  obscurities  and  determining  the  exact 
sense  of  the  Scriptures,  cannot  be  too  readily  conceded,  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  the  collateral  illustration  derivable  from  re 
cords  of  travel  be  not  deserving  at  least  equal  consideration. 
Certainly  the  evidence  thus  afforded,  exerting  an  enkindling  in< 
fluencc  upon  the  popular  imagination,  and  so  taking  palpable 
hold  upon  the  popular  understanding,  will  not  fail  to  become  in 
time  a  most  powerful  because  easily  available  instrument  in  the 
downfall  of  unbelief.  Infidelity  itself  has  often  afforded  unwilling 
and  unwitting  testimony  to  the  truth.  It  is  surprising  to  find 
with  what  unintentional  precision  both  Gibbon  and  Volney 
(among  others)  have  used,  fo^  the  purpose  of  description,  in 
their  accounts  of  nations  and  countries,  the  identical  phraseology 
employed  by  the  inspired  writers  when  foretelling  the  most  im- 
probable events.  In  this  manner  skepticism  has  been  made  the 

*  New  York  Review,  Oct.,  1837. 


510        REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  AK.vBIA  TETIl-EA,  ETC. 

root  of  belief,  and  the  providence  of  the  Deity  has  been  no  less 
remarkable  in  the  extent  and  nature  of  the  means  for  briivnno 

r-,      o 

to  light  the  evidence  of  his  accomplished  word,  than  in  workin" 
the  accomplishment  itself. 

Of  late  days,  the  immense  stores  of  biblical  elucidation  'deriv- 
able from  the  East  have  been  rapidly  accumulating  in  the  hands 
of  the  student.  When  the  "  Observations"  of  Harmer  were 
given  to  the  public,  he  had  access  to  few  other  works  than  the 
travels  of  Chardin,  Pococke,  Shaw,  Maundrell,  Pitts,  and  D'Ar- 
vieux,  with  perhaps  those  of  Nau  and  Troilo,  and  liusselFs 
"  Natural  History  of  Aleppo."  We  have  now  a  vast  accession 
to  our  knowledge  of  Oriental  regions.  Intelligent  and  observing 
men,  impelled  by  the  various  motives  of  Christian  zeal,  military 
adventure,  the  love  of  gain,  and  the  love  of  science,  have  made 
their  way,  often  at  imminent  risk,  into  every  land  rendered  holy 
by  the  words  of  revelation.  Through  the  medium  of  the  pencil, 
as  well  as  of  the  pen,  we  are  even  familiarly  acquainted  with  the 
territories  of  the  Bible.  Valuable  books  of  eastern  travel  are 
abundant — of  which  the  labors  of  Niebuhr,  Mariti,  Volney,  Por- 
ter, Clarke,  Chateaubriand,  Burckhardt,  Buckingham,  Morier, 
Seetzen,  De  Lamartine,  Laborde,  Tournefort,  Madden,  Maddox, 
Wilkinson,  Arundell,  Mangles,  Leigh,  and  Hogg,  besides  those 
already  mentioned,  are  merely  the  principal,  or  the  most  exten- 
sively known.  As  we  have  said,  however,  the  work  before  us 
is  not  to  be  lightly  regarded :  highly  agreeable,  interesting,  and 
instructive,  in  a  general  view,  it  also  has,  in  the  connexion  now 
adverted  to,  claims  to  public  attention  possessed  by  no  other  book 
of  its  kind. 

In  an  article  prepared  for  this  journal  some  months  ago,  we 
had  traced  the  route  of  Mr.  Stephens  with  a  degree  of  minute- 
ness not  desirable  now,  when  the  work  has  been  so  long  in  the 
hands  of  the  public.  At  this  late  day  we  must  be  content  with 
iaying,  briefly,  in  regard  to  the  earlier  portion  of  the  narrative, 
that,  arriving  at  Alexandria  in  December,  1835,  he  thence! 
passed  up  the  Nile  as  far  as  the  Lower  Cataracts.  One  or  two 
passages  from  this  part  of  the  tour  may  still  be  noted  for  obser- 
vation. The  annexed  speculations,  in  regard  to  the  present  city 
of  Alexandria,  are  well  worth  attention. 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^EA,  ETC.       511 

"  The  present  city  of  Alexandria,  even  after  the  dreadful  ravages  made 
by  the  plague  last  yeaj,  is  still  supposed  to  contain  more  than  50,000  inha- 
bitants, and  is  decidedly  growing.  It  stands  outside  the  Delta  in  the  Libya* 
Desert,  and  as  Volney  remarks,  •  It  is  only  by  the  canal  which  conducts  th« 
waters  of  the  Nile  into  the  reservoirs  in  the  time  of  inundation,  that  Alex 
indria  can  be  considered  as  connected  with  Egypt.'  Founded  by  the  grea! 
Alexander,  to  secure  his  conquests  in  the  East,  being  the  only  safu  harboi 
along  the  coast  of  Syria  or  Africa,  and  possessing  peculiar  commercial  ad- 
vantages, il  soon  grew  into  a  giant  city.  Fifteen  miles  in  circumference, 
containing  a  population  of  300,000  citizens  and  as  many  slaves,  one  mag 
nificent  street,  2,000  feet  broad,  ran  the  whole  length  of  the  city,  from  the 
Gato  of  the  Sea  to  the  Canopie  Gate,  commanding  a  view  at  each  end,  of 
the  shipping,  either  in  the  Mediterranean  or  in  the  Mareotic  Lake,  and  an- 
other cf  equal  length  intersected  it  at  right  angles  ;  a  spacious  circus  without 
the  Canopie  Gate,  for  chariot-races,  and  on  the  east  a  splendid  gymnasium 
more  than  six  hundred  feet  in  length,  with  theatres,  baths  and  all  that  could 
make  it  a  desirable  residence  for  a  luxurious  people.  When  it  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Saracens,  according  to  the  report  of  the  Saracen  general  to  the 
Calif  Omar,  "  it  was  impossible  to  enumerate  the  variety  of  its  riches  and 
beauties ;'  and  it  is  said  to  '  have  contained  four  thousand  palaces,  four 
thousand  baths,  four  hundred  theatres  or  public  edifices,  twelve  thousand 
shops,  and  forty  thousand  tributary  Jews.'  From  that  time,  like  every 
thing  else  which  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  Mussulman,  it  has  been  going 
to  ruin,  and  the  discovery  of  the  passage  to  India  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
gave  the  death-blow  to  its  commercial  greatness.  At  present  it  stands  a 
phenomenon  in  the  history  of  a  Turkish  dominion.  It  appears  once  more 
to  be  raising  its  head  from  the  dust.  It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  this 
rise  is  the  legitimate  and  permanent  effect  of  a  wise  and  politic  government, 
combined  with  natural  advantages,  or  whether  the  pacha  is  not  forcing  it  to 
an  unnatural  elevation,  at  the  expense,  if  not  upon  the  ruins,  of  the  rest  of 
Egypt.  It  is  almost  presumptuous,  on  the  threshold  of  my  entrance  into 
Egypt,  to  speculate  upon  the  future  condition  of  this  interesting  country  ; 
but  it  is  clear  that  the  pacha  is  determined  to  build  up  the  city  of  Alexan- 
dria, if  he  can  :  his  fleet  is  here,  his  army,  his  arsenal,  and  his  forts  arc  here ; 
and  he  has  forced  and  centred  here  a  commerce  that  was  before  divided  be 
tween  several  places.  Rosetta  has  lost  more  than  two  thirds  of  its  popula- 
tion. Damietta  has  become  a  mere  nothing,  and  even  Cairo  the  Grand  has 
become  tributary  to  what  is  called  the  regenerated  city."  Vol.  I.  pp.  21,  22, 

We  see  no  presumption  in  this  attempt  to  speculate  upon  the 
future  condition  of  Egypt.  Its  destinies  are  matter  for  the  atten- 
tive consideration  of  every  reader  of  the  Bible.  No  words  can 
be  more  definitive,  more  utterly  free  from  ambiguity,  than  the 
prophecies  concerning  this  region.  No  events  could  be  more 


512       REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^A,  ETC. 

wonderful  in  their  nature,  nor  more  impossible  to  have  been  fore- 
seen by  the  eye  of  man,  than  the  events  foretold  concerning  it. 
With  the  earliest  ages  of  the  world  its  line  of  monarchs  began, 
and  the  annihilation  of  the  entire  dynasty  was  predicted  during 
the  zenith  of  tl  at  dynasty's  power.  One  of  the  most  lucid  of 
the  biblical  commentators  has  justly  observed  that  the  very 
attempt  once  made  by  infidels  to  show,  from  the  recorded  number 
of  its  monarchs  and  the  duration  of  their  reigns,  that  Egypt  was 
a  kingdom  previous  to  the  Mosaic  era  of  the  deluge,  places  in 
the  most  striking  view  the  extraordinary  character  of  the  pro- 
phecies regarding  it.  During  two  thousand  years  prior  to  these 
predictions  Egypt  had  never  been  without  a  prince  of  its  own ; 
and  how  oppressive  was  its  tyranny  over  Judea  and  the  neigh- 
boring nations !  It,  however,  was  distinctly  foretold  that  this 
country  of  kings  should  no  longer  have  one  of  its  own — that  it 
should  be  laid  waste  by  the  hand  of  strangers — that  it  should  be 
a  base  kingdom,  the  basest  of  the  base — that  it  should  never 
again  exalt  itself  among  the  nations — that  it  should  be  a  desola- 
tion surrounded  by  desolation.  Two  thousand  years  have  now 
atforded  their  testimony  to  the  infallibility  of  the  Divine  word, 
and  the  evidence  is  still  accumulative.  "  Its  past  and  present 
degeneracy  bears  not  a  more  remote  resemblance  to  the  former 
greatness  and  pride  of  its  power,  than  the  frailty  of  its  mud-walled 
fabric  now  bears  to  the  stability  of  its  imperishable  pyramids." 
But  it  should  be  remembered  that  there  are  other  prophecies 
concerning  it  which  still  await  their  fulfilment.  "  The  whole 
earth  shall  rejoice,  and  Egypt-  shall  not  be  for  ever  base.  The 
Lord  shall  smite  Egypt ;  he  shall  smite  and  heal  it ;  and  they 
phall  return  to  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  be  entreated  of  them,  and 
t?hall  heal  them.  In  that  day  shall  Isaac  be  the  third  with  Egypt 
and  with  Assyria,  even  a  blessing  in  the  midst  of  the  land."  Isa. 
xix.  19 — 25.  In  regard  to  the  present  degree  of  political  power 
and  importance  to  which  the  country  has  certainly  aiisen  under 
Mjhammed  Aly,  (an  importance  unknown  for  many  centuries,) 
(he  fact,  as  Mr.  Keith  observes  in  his  valuable  Evidence  of  Pro- 
phecy, may  possibly  serve,  at  no  distant  period,  to  illustrate  the 
prediction  which  implies,  that  however  base  and  degraded  it 
might  be  throughout  many  generations,  it  would,  notwithstand- 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETILEA,  ETC.       518 

ing,  have  strength  sufficient  to  be  looked  to  for  aid  or  protection, 
even  at  the  time  of  the  restoration  of  the  Jews  to  Judea,  who 
•will  seek  "  to  strengthen  themselves  in  the  strength  of  Pharaoh, 
and  trust  in  the  shadow  of  Egypt"  How  emphatically  her  pre- 
sent feeble  prosperity  is,  after  all,  but  the  shadow  of  the  Egypt  of 
the  Pharaohs,  we  leave  to  the  explorer  of  her  pyramids,  the 
wanderer  among  the  tombs  of  her  kings  or  the  fragments  of 
her  -Luxor  and  her  Carnac. 

At  Djiddeh,  formerly  the  capital  of  Upper  Egypt  and  the 
largest  town  on  the  Nile,  Mr.  Stephens  encountered  two  large 
boat-loads  of  slaves — probably  five,  or  six  hundred — collected  at 
Dongola  and  Sennaar.  "  In  the  East,"  he  writes,  "  slavery  ex- 
ists now  precisely  as  it  did  in  the  days  of  the  patriarchs.  The 
slave  is  received  into  the  family  of  a  Turk,  in  a  relation  more 
confidential  and  respectable  than  that  of  an  ordinary  domestic ; 
and  when  liberated,  which  very  often  happens,  stands  upon  the 
same  footing  with  a  freeman.  The  curse  does  not  rest  upon 
him  for  ever;  he  may  sit  at  the  same  board,  dip  his  hand  in  tho 
same  dish,  and,  if  there  are  no  other  impediments,  may  marry 
his  master's  daughter." 

Morier  says,  in  his  Journey  through  Persia — "  The  manners 
of  the  East,  amidst  all  the  changes  of  government  and  religion, 
are  still  the  same.  They  are  living  impressions  from  an  original 
mould ;  and,  at  every  step,  some  object,  some  idiom,  some  dress, 
or  some  custom  of  common  life,  reminds  the  traveller  of  ancient 
times,  and  confirms,  above  all,  the  beauty,  the  accuracy,  and  the 
propriety  of  the  language  and  the  history  of  the  Bible." 

Sir  John  Chardin,  also,  in  the  Preface  to  his  Travels  in  Persia, 
employs  similar  language: — "And  the  learned,  to  whom  I  com- 
municated my  design,  encouraged  me  very  much  by  their  com- 
mendations to  proceed  in  it ;  and  more  especially  when  I  in- 
formed them  that  it  is  not  in  Asia,  as  in  our  Europe,  where  there 
are  frequent  changes,  more  or  less,  in  the  form  of  things,  as  the 
habits,  buildings,  gardens,  and  the  like.  In  the  East  they  are 
constant  in  all  things.  The  habits  are  at  this  day  in  the  same 
manner  as  in  the  precedent  ages ;  so  that  one  may  reasonably 
believe  that,  in  that  part  of  the  world,  the  exterior  forms  of 
things  (as  their  manners  and  customs)  are  the  same  now  as  they 


514        REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^EA,  ETC. 

were  two  thousand  years  since,  except  in  such  changes  a-  have 
been  introduced  by  religion,  which  are,  nevertheless,  very  ineon« 
siderable." 

Nor  is  such  striking  testimony  unsupported.  From  all  sources 
we  derive  evidence  of  the  conformity,  almost  of  the  identity,  of 
the  modern  with  the  ancient  usages  of  the  East.  This  steadfast 
resistance  to  innovation  is  a  trait  remarkably  confined  to  the 
regions  of  biblical  history,  and  (it  should  not  be  doubted)  will 
remain  in  force  until  it  shall  have  fulfilled  all  the  important  pur- 
poses of  biblical  elucidation.  Hereafter,  when  the  ends  of  Prov- 
idence shall  be  thoroughly  answered,  it  will  not  fail  to  give  way 
before  the  influence  of  that  very  Word  it  has  been  instrumental 
in  establishing ;  and  the  tide  of  civilization,  which  has  hitherto 
flowed  continuously,  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  sun,  will  be 
driven  back,  with  a  partial  ebb,  into  its  original  channels. 

Returning  from  the  cataracts,  Mr.  Stephens  found  himself 
safely  at  Cairo,  where  terminated  his  journeyings  upon  the  Nile. 
He  had  passed  "  from  Migdol  to  Syene,  even  unto  the  borders 
of  Ethiopia."  In  regard  to  the  facilities,  comforts,  and  minor 
enjoyments  of  the  voyage,  he  speaks  of  them  in  a  manner  so 
favorable,  that  many  of  our  young  countrymen  will  be  induced 
to  follow  his  example.  It  is  an  amusement,  he  says,  even  ridi- 
culously cheap,  and  attended  with  no  degree  of  danger.  A  boat 
with  ten  men  is  procured  for  thirty  or  forty  dollars  a  month, 
fowls  for  three  piastres  a  pair,  a  sheep  for  a  half  or  three  quar- 
ters of  a  dollar,  and  eggs  for  the  asking.  "  You  sail  under  your 
own  country's  banner ;  and  when  you  walk  along  the  river,  if 
the  Arabs  look  particularly  black  and  truculent,  you  proudly 
feel  that  there  is  safety  in  its  folds." 

We  now  approach  what  is  by  far  the  most  interesting  and  the 
most  important  portion  of  his  tour.  Mr.  S.  had  resolved  to  visit 
Mount  Sinai,  proceeding  thence  to  the  Holy  Land.  If  he  should 
return  to  Suez,  and  thus  cross  the  desert  to  FA  Arich  and  Gaza, 
he  would  be  subjected  to  a  quarantine  of  fourteen  days  on  ac- 
count of  the  plague  in  Egypt ;  and  this  difficulty  might  be  avoid- 
ed by  striking  through  the  heart  of  the  desert  lying  between 
Mount  Sinai  and  the  frontier  ol  Palestine.  This  route  was  beset 
with  danger ;  but,  apart  from  the  matter  of  avoiding  quarantine, 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PET1LEA,  ETC.       515 

it  had  other  strong  temptations  for  the  enterprise  and  enthusiasm 
of  the  traveller — temptations  not  to  be  resisted.  "  The  route,'' 
says  Mr.  Stephens,  "  was  hitherto  untravelled,"  and  moreover,  it 
lay  through  a  region  upon  which  has  long  rested,  and  still  rests, 
a  remarkable  curse  of  the  Divinity  ;  issued  through  the  voices  of 
his  prophets.  We  allude  to  the  land  of  Idumea — the  Edom  of 
•the  Scriptures.  Some  English  friends,  who  first  suggested  this 
route  to  Mr.  Stephens,  referred  him,  for  information  concerning 
it,  to  Keith  on  the  Prophecies.  Mr.  Keith,  as  our  readers  are 
aware,  contends  for  the  literal  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  and  in  the 
treatise  in  question  brings  forward  a  mass  of  evidence,  and  a 
world  of  argument,  which  we,  at  least,  are  constrained  to  consi- 
der, as  a  whole,  irrefutable.  We  look  upon  the  literalness  of  the 
understanding  of  the  Bible  predictions  as  an  essential  feature  in 
prophecy — conceiving  minuteness  of  detail  to  have  been  but  a 
portion  of  the  providential  plan  of  the  Deity  for  bringing  more 
visibly  to  light,  in  after-ages,  the  evidence  of  the  fulfilment  of  his 
word.  No  general  meaning  attached  to  a  prediction,  no  general 
fulfilment  of  such  prediction,  could  carry,  to  the  reason  of  man- 
kind, inferences  so  unquestionable,  as  its  particular  and  minutely 
incidental  accomplishment.  General  statements,  except  in  rare 
instances,  are  susceptible  of  misinterpretation  or  misapplication : 
details  admit  no  shadow  of  ambiguity.  That,  in  many  striking 
cases,  the  words  of  the  prophets  have  been  brought  to  pass  in 
every  particular  of  a  series  of  minutiae,  whose  very  meaning  was 
unintelligible  before  the  period  of  fulfilment,  is  a  truth  that  few 
are  so  utterly  stubborn  as  to  deny.  We  mean  to  say  that,  in 
all  instances,  the  most  strictly  literal  interpretation  will  apply. 
There  is,  no  doubt,  much  unbelief  founded  upon  the  obscurity 
of  the  prophetic  expression ;  and  the  question  is  frequently  de- 
manded— "  wherein  lies  the  use  of  this  obscurity  ? — why  are  not 
the  prophecies  distinct  ?•— These  words,  it  is  said,  are  incoherent, 
unintelligible,  and  should  be  therefore  regarded  as  untrue.  That 
many  prophecies  are  absolutely  unintelligible  should  not  be  de- 
nied— it  is  a  part  of  their  essence  that  they  should  be.  The  ob- 
Bcurity,  like  the  apparently  irrelevant  detail,  has  its  object  in  the 
providence  of  God.  Were  the  words  of  inspiration,  affording 
insight  into  the  events  of  futurity,  at  all  times  so  pointedly  clear 


516       REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETILEA,  ETC. 

that  he  who  rung  might  read,  they  would  in  many  cases,  ev.n 
when  fulfilled,  afford  a  rational  ground  for  unbelief  in  the  inspi- 
ration of  their  authors,  and  consequently  in  the  whole  truth  of 
revelation ;  for  it  would  be  supposed  that  these  distinct  words, 
exciting  union  and  emulation  among  Christians,  had  thus  beon 
merely  the  means  of  working  out  their  own  accomplishment. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  most  of  the  predictions  become  in- 
telligible only  when  viewed  from  the  proper  point  of  observation 
— the  period  of  fulfilment.  Perceiving  this,  the  philosophical 
thinker,  and  the  Christian,  will  draw  no  argument  from  the  ob- 
scurity, against  the  verity  of  prophecy.  Having  seen  palpably, 
incontrovertibly  fulfilled,  even  one  of  these  many  wonderful  pre- 
dictions, of  whose  meaning,  until  the  day  of  accomplishment,  he 
could  form  no  conception ;  and  having  thoroughly  satisfied  him- 
self that  no  human  foresight  could  have  been  equal  to  such 
amount  of  foreknowledge,  he  will  await,  in  confident  expectation, 
that  moment  certainly  to  come  when  the  darkness  of  the  veiJ 
shall  be  uplifted  from  the  others.* 

*  We  cannot  do  better  than  quote  here  the  words  of  a  writer  in  the  Lon- 
don Quarterly  Review.  "  Twenty  years  ago  we  read  certain  portions  of  the 
prophetic  Scriptures  with  a  belief  that  they  were  true,  because  other  similar 
passages  had  in  the  course  of  ages  been  proved  to  be  so ;  and  we  had  an 
indistinct  notion  that  all  these,  to  us  obscure  and  indefinite  denunciations, 
had  been — we  knew  not  very  well  when  or  how — accomplished  ;  but  to 
have  graphic  descriptions,  ground  plans,  and  elevations  showing  the  actual 
existence  of  all  the  heretofore  vague  and  shadowy  denunciations  of  God 
against  Edom,  does,  we  confess,  excite  our  feelings,  and  exalt  our  confi- 
dence in  prophecy  to  a  height  that  no  external  evidence  has  hitherto  done." 

Many  prophecies,  it  should  be  remembered,  are  in  a  state  of  gradual  fulfil- 
ment— a  chain  of  evidence  being  thus  made  to  extend  throughout  a  long 
series  of  ages,  for  the  benefit  of  man  at  large,  without  being  confined  to  one 
epoch  or  generation,  which  would  be  the  case  in  a  fulfilment  suddenly  coming 
to  pass.  Thus,  some  portion  of  the  prophecies  concerning  Edom  has  refer- 
ence to  the  year  of  recompense  for  the  controversy  of  Sion. 

One  word  in  regard  to  the  work  of  Keith.  Since  penning  this  article  we 
have  been  grieved  to  see,  in  a  New  York  daily  paper,  some  strictures  on 
this  well-known  treatise,  which  we  think  unnecessary,  if  not  positively 
unjust ;  and  which,  indeed,  are  little  more  than  a  revival  of  the  old  story 
trumped  up  for  purposes  of  its  own,  and  in  the  most  bitter  spirit  of  unfair- 
ness, by  the  London  Quarterly  Review.  We  allude  especially  to  the  charga 
of  plagiarism  from  the  work  of  Bishop  Newton,  It  would  be  <juite  as  rca- 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^EA,  ETC.       517 

sonablc  to  accuse  Dr.  Webster  of  having  stolen  his  Dictionary  from  Dr. 
Johnson,  or  any  other  compiler  of  having  plundered  any  other.  But  the 
work  of  Keith,  as  we  learn  from  himself,  was  written  hastily,  for  the  imme 
diate  service,  and  at  the  urgent  solicitation,  of  a  friend,  whose  faith  wave/ed 
in  regard  to  the  Evidences  of  Prophecy,  and  who  applied  to  the  author  to 
aid  his  unbelief  with  a  condensed  view  of  these  Evidences.  In  the  preface 
of  the  book  thus  composed,  with  no  view  to  any  merits  of  authorship,  and, 
indeed,  with  none  except  that  of  immediate  utility,  there  is  found  the  fullest 
disclaimer  of  all  pretension  to  originality — surely  motives  and  circumstances 
such  as  these  should  have  sufficed  to  secure  Dr.  Keith  from  the  unmeaning 
charges  of  plagiarism,  which  have  been  so  pertinaciously  adduced  !  We  do 
not  mean  to  deny  that,  in  the  blindness  of  his  zeal,  and  in  the  firm  convic- 
tion entertained  by  him  of  the  general  truth  of  his  assumptions,  he  fre 
quently  adopted  surmises  as  facts,  and  did  essential  injury  to  his  cause  by 
carrying  out  his  positions  to  an  unwarrantable  length.  With  all  its  inaccu- 
racies, however,  his  work  must  still  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  import- 
ant triumphs  of  faith,  and,  beyond  doubt,  as  a  most  lucid  and  conclusive 
train  of  argument. 

Having  expressed  our  belief  in  the  literal  fulfilment  of  pro- 
phecy in  all  cases,*  and  having  suggested,  as  one  reason  for  the 
non-prevalence  of  this  belief,  the  improper  point  of  view  from 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  regard  it,  it  remains  to  be  seen  what 
were  the  principal  predictions  in  respect  to  Idumea. 

"  From  generation  to  generation  it  shall  lie  waste ;  none  shall 
pass  through  it  for  ever  and  ever.  But  the  cormorant  and  the 
bittern  shall  possess  it ;  the  owl  also  and  the  raven  shall  dwell  in 
it ;  and  he  shall  stretch  out  upon  it  the  line  of  confusion  and  the 
stones  of  emptiness.  They  shall  call  the  nobles  thereof  to  the 
kingdom,  but  none  shall  be  there,  and  all  her  princes  shall  be 
nothing.  And  thorns  shall  come  up  in  her  palaces,  nettles  and 
brambles  in  the  fortresses  thereof;  and  it  shall  be  a  habitation 
for  dragons  and  a  court  for  owls.  The  wild  beasts  of  the  desert 
shall  alto  meet  with  the  wild  beasts  of  the  island,  and  the  satyr 
shall  cry  to  his  fellow ;  the  screech-owl  also  shall  rest  there,  and 
find  for  herself  a  place  of  rest.  There  shall  the  great  owl  make 
her  nest,  and  lay  and  hatch,  and  gather  under  her  shadow ;  there 
shall  the  vultures  also  be  gathered,  every  one  with  her  mate. 
Seek  ye  out  of  the  Book  of  the  Lord,  and  read ;  no  one  of  these 

*  Of  course  it  will  be  understood  that  a  proper  allowance  must  be  made 
for  the  usual  hyperbolical  tendency  of  the  language  of  the  East. 


518       REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^EA,  ETC. 

shall  fail,  none  shall  want  her  mate ;  for  my  mouth  it  hath  com- 
manded, and  his  spirit  it  hath  gathered  them.  And  he  hath  cast 
Ihe  lot  for  them,  and  his  hand  hath  divided  it  unto  them  byline! 
they  shall  possess  it  for  ever  and  ever,  from  generation  to  genera- 
lion  shall  they  dwell  therein."  Isaiah:  xxxiv.  5,  10 — 17.  "Thus 
will  I  make  Mount  Seir  most  desolate,  and  cut  off  from  it  him 
that passeth  out  and  him  that  returneth"  Ezekiel :  xxxv.  7. 

In  regard  to  such  of  the  passages  here  quoted  as  are  not 
printed  in  Italics,  we  must  be  content  with  referring  to  the  trea- 
tise of  Keith  already  mentioned,  wherein  the  evidences  of  the 
fulfilment  of  the  predictions  in  their  most  minute  particulars  are 
gathered  into  one  view.  We  may  as  well,  however,  present 
here  the  substance  of  his  observations  respecting  the  words — 
"  none  shall  pass  through  it  for  ever  and  ever,"  and  "  thus  will  I 
make  Mount  Seir  desolate,  and  cut  off  from  it  him  that  passeth 
out  and  him  that  returneth." 

He  says  that  Volney,  Burckhardt,  Joliffe,  Henniker,  and  Cap- 
tains Irby  and  Mangles,  adduce  a  variety  of  circumstances,  all 
conspiring  to  prove  that  Idumea,  which  was  long  resorted  to 
from  every  quarter,  is  so  beset  on  every  side  with  dangers  to 
the  traveller,  that  literally  none  pass  through  it;  that  even  the 
Arabs  of  the  neighboring  regions,  whose  home  is  the  desert,  and 
whose  occupation  is  wandering,  are  afraid  to  enter  it,  or  to  con- 
duct any  within  its  borders.  He  says,  too,  that  amid  all  this 
manifold  testimony  to  its  truth,  there  is  not,  in  any  single  in- 
stance, the  most  distant  allusion  to  the  prediction — that  the  evi- 
dence is  unsuspicious  and  undesigned. 

A  Roman  road  passed  directly  through  Idumea  from  Jerusa- 
lem to  Akaba,  and  another  from  Akaba  to  Moab  ;  and  when  these 
roads  were  made,  at  a  time  long  posterior  to  the  date  of  the 
predictions,  the  conception  could  not  have  been  formed,  or  held 
credible  by  man,  that  the  period  would  ever  arrive  when  none 
should  pass  through  it.  Indeed,  seven  hundred  years  after  the 
date  of  the  prophecy,  we  are  informed  by  Strabo  that  the  roads 
were  actually  in  use.  The  prediction  is  yet  more  surprising,  he 
Bays,  when  viewed  in  conjunction  with  that  which  implies  that 
travellers  should  pass  by  Idumea — "  every  one  that  goeth  by 
f>hall  be  astonished."  The  routes  of  the  pilgrims  from  Damas- 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETRJEA,  ETC.       519 

cus,  and  from  Cairo  to  Mecca,  the  one  on  the  east  and  the  other 
towards  the  soutli  of  Edom,  along  the  whole  of  its  extent,  go  by 
it,  or  touch  partially  on  its  borders,  without  going  through  it. 

Not  even,  he  says,  the  cases  of  Seetzen  and  Burckhardt  can 
be  urged  against  the  literal  fulfilment,  although  Seetzen  actually 
did  pass  through  Idumea,  and  Burckhardt  traversed  a  consider- 
able portion  of  it.  The  former  died  not  long  after  the  coiople- 
tion  of  his  journey ;  and  the  latter  never  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  the  hardships  endured  on  the  route — dying  at  Cairo. 
"Neither  of  them,"  we  have  given  the  precise  words  of  Mr. 
Keith,  ':  lived  to  return  to  Europe.  I  will  cut  off  from  Mount 
Seir  him  that  passeth  out  and  him  that  returneth.  Strabo  men- 
tions that  there  was  a  direct  road  from  Petra  to  Jericho,  of  three 
or  four  days'  journey.  Captains  Irby  and  Mangles  were  eighteen 
days  in  reaching  it  from  Jerusalem.  They  did  not  pass  through 
Idumea,  and  they  did  return.  Seetzen  and  Burckhardt  did  pass 
through  it,  and  they  did  not  return." 

"  The  words  of  the  prediction,"  he  elsewhere  observes,  "  might 
well  be  understood  as  merely  implying  that  Idumea  would  cease 
to  be  a  thoroughfare  for  the  commerce  of  the  nations  -which  ad- 
joined it,  and  that  its  highly-frequented  marts  would  be  forsaken 
as  centres  of  intercourse  and  trallic ;  and  easy  would  have  been 
Ihe  task  of  demonstrating  its  truth  in  this  limited  sense  which 
skepticism  itself  ought  not  to  be  unwilling  to  authorize." 

Here  is,  no  doubt,  much  inaccuracy  and  misunderstanding; 
and  the  exact  boundaries  of  ancient  Edom  are,  apparently,  not 
borne  in  mind  by  the  commentator.  Idumea  proper  was,  strictly 
speaking,  only  the  mountainous  tract  of  country  east  of  the  val- 
ley of  El-Ghor.  The  Idumeans,  if  we  rightly  apprehend,  did 
not  get  possession  of  any  portion  of  the  south  of  Judea  till  after 
the  exile,  and  consequently  until  after  the  prophecies  in  question. 
They  then  advanced  as  far  as  Hebron,  where  they  were  arrested 
by  the  Maccabees.  That  "  Seetzen  actually  did  pa^s  through 
Idumea,"  cannot  therefore  be  asserted ;  and  thus  much  is  in  favor 
of  the  whole  argument  of  Dr.  Keith,  while  in  contradiction  to  a 

O 

branch  of  that  argument.  The  traveller  in  question  (see  his 
own  Narrative,)  pursuing  his  route  on  the  east  of  the  Dead  Sea, 
proce  ;ded  no  farther  in  this  direction  than  to  Kerek,  when  he 


520       REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  TETK/EA,  ETC. 

retraced  his  way — afterwards  going  from  Hebron  to  Monnl 
Sinai,  over  the  desert  eastward  of  Edom.  Neither  is  it  stricily 
correct  that  he  "  died  not  long  after  the  completion  of  his  jour- 
ney." Several  years  afterwards  he  was  actively  employed  in 
Egypt,  and  finally  died ;  not  from  constitutional  injury  sustained 
from  any  former  adventure,  but,  if  \ve  remember,  from  the  effects 
of  poison  administered  by  his  guide  in  a  journey  from  Mocha 
into  the  heart  of  Arabia.  \Ve  see  no  ground  either  for  the  state- 
ment that  Burckhardt  owed  his  death  to  hardships  endured  in 
]dumea.  Having  visited  Petra,  and  crossed  the  western  desert 
of  Egypt  in  the  year  1812,  we  find  him,  four  years  afterwards, 
sufficiently  well,  at  Mount  Sinai.  He  did  not  die  until  the  close 
of  1817,  and  then  of  a  diarrhoea  brought  about  by  the  imprudent 
use  of  cold  water. 

But  let  us  dismiss  these  and  some  other  instances  of  misstate- 
ment.  It  should  not  be  a  matter  of  surprise  that,  perceiving,  as 
he  no  doubt  did,  the  object  of  the  circumstantiality  of  prophecy 
clearly  seeing  in  how  many  wonderful  cases  its  minuthe  had  been 
fulfilled,  and  withal  being  thoroughly  imbued  with  a  love  of  truth, 
and  with  that  zeal  which  is  becoming  in  a  Christian,  Dr.  Keith 
should  have  plunged  somewhat  hastily  or  blindly  into  these  in- 
quiries, and  pushed  to  an  improper  extent  the  principle  for  which 
he  contended.  It  should  be  observed  that  the  passage  cited  just 
above  in  regard  to  Seetzen  and  Burckhardt,  is  given  in  a  foot- 
note, and  has  the  appearance  of  an  after-thought,  about  whose 
propriety  its  author  did  not  feel  perfectly  content.  It  is  cer- 
tainly very  difficult  to  reconcile  the  literal  fulfilment  of  the  pro- 
phecy with  an  acknowledgment  militating  so  violently  against  it 
as  we  find  in  his  own  words — "  Seetzen  actually  did  pass  through 
Idumea,  and  Burckhardt  travelled  through  a  considerable  portion 
of  it."  And  what  we  are  told  subsequently  in  respect  to  Irby 
and  Mangles,  and  Seetzen  and  Burckhardt — that  these  did  net 
pass  through  Idumea  and  did  return,  while  those  did  pass  through 
and  did  not  return — where  a  passage  from  Ezekiel  is  brought  to 
sustain  collaterally  a  passage  from  Isaiah — is  certainly  not  in 
the  spirit  of  literal  investigation ;  partaking,  indeed,  somewhat  of 
equivoque. 

But  in  regard  to  the  possibility  of  the  actual  passage  through 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETIl<EA,  ETC.        521 

Edotn,  we  might  now  consider  all  ambiguity  at  an  end,  could  we 
fiufl'er  ourselves  to  adopt  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Stephens,  that  ho 
himself  had  at  length  traversed  the  disputed  region.  What  we 
have  said  ahead)  ,  however,  respecting  the  proper  boundaries  of 
that  Idumea  to  which  the  prophecies  have  allusion,  will  assure 
.  lie  reader  that  we  cannot  entertain  this  idea.  It  will  be  clearly 
seen  that  he  did  not  pass  through  the  Edom  of  Ezekiel.  That 
lie  might  have  done  so,  however,  is  sulficiently  evident.  The 
indomitable  perseverance  which  bore  him  up  amid  the  hardships 
•ma  uangers  of  the  route  actually  traversed,  would,  beyond  doubt, 
have  sufficed  to  ensure  him  a  successful  passage  even  through 
Idumea  the  proper.  And  this  we  say,  maintaining  still  an  un- 
hesitating belief  in  the  literal  understanding  of  the  prophecies. 
It  is  essential,  however,  that  these  prophecies  be  literally  ren- 
dered ;  and  it  is  a  matter  for  regret  as  well  as  surprise,  that  Dr. 
Keith  should  have  failed  to  determine  so  important  a  point  as 
the  exactness  or  falsity  of  the  version  of  his  text.  This  we  v  ;1> 
now  briefly  examine. 
Isaiah  xxxiv.  10. 

n^ab  —  "  For  an  eternity," 
SST;X:  —  "  of  eternities," 
T>x  —  "  not," 
"'y  —  "  moving  about," 
:  rnn  —  "  in  it." 

"  For  an  eternity  of  eternities  (there  shall)  not  (be  any  one) 
moving  about  in  it."  The  literal  meaning  of  "  Pi3  "  is  "  in  it" 
not  "  through  it."  The  participle  "  ^33>  "  refers  to  out  moving 
to  nnd  fro  or  up  and  down,  and  is  the  same  term  which  is  ren- 
dered "current"  as  an  epithet  of  money,  in  Genesis  xxiii.  16 
The  prophet  means  that  there  shall  be  no  marks  of  life  in  the 
land,  no  living  being  there,  no  one  moving  up  and  down  in  it  : 
and  are,  of  course,  to  be  taken  with  the  usual  allowance  for  that 
hyperbole  which  is  a  main  feature,  and  indeed  the  genius  of  the 
language. 

Ezekiel  xxxv.  7. 


"  and  I  will  give," 
"in"rs  —  "  the  mountain,"' 


522       REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR.ZEA,  ETC. 

-PSUJ— «  Seir," 

m^Tairb — "  for  a  desolation," 

n^bsi — "  and  a  desolation," 

ifi-crn — "and  I  will  cut  off," 

SISES — "  from  it," 

"OS — "  him  that  goeth," 

3d} — "  and  him  that  returneth." 

"And  I  will  give  mount  Seir  for  an  utter  desolation,  and  wiii 
cut  off  from  it  him  that  passeth  and  repasseth  therein."  The 
reference  here  r,  the  same  as  in  the  previous  passage,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  die  land  are  alluded  to  as  moving  about  therein, 
and  actively  employed  in  the  business  of  life.  The  meaning  of 
"  passing  and  repassing"  is  sanctioned  by  Gesenius,  s.  v.  vol.  2, 
p.  570,  Leo's  Trans.  Compare  Zachariah  vii.  14,  and  ix.  8.  There 
is  something  analogous  in  the  Hebrew-Greek  phrase,  occurring 
in  Acts  ix.  28.  Kai  J]V  /u,er'  airoJv  eicrTropeuouevos  KCU  CKTroptvo/Jitvos 
iv  'lfpovara.Xf]fj..  "  And  he  was  with  them  in  Jerusalem  coming 
in  and  going  out."  The  Latin  "  versatus  est"  conveys  the  mean- 
ing precisely ;  which  is,  that  Saul,  the  new  convert,  was  on  inti- 
mate terms  with  the  true  believers  in  Jerusalem,  moving  about 
among  them  to  and  fro,  or  in  and  out.  It  is  plain,  therefore,  that 
the  words  of  the  prophets,  in  both  cases,  and  when  literally  con- 
strued, intend  only  to  predict  the  general  desolation  and  aban 
donment  of  the  land.  Indeed,  it  should  have  been  taken  into 
consideration,  that  a  strict  prohibition  on  the  part  of  the  Deity, 
of  an  entrance  into,  or  passage  through,  Idumea,  would  have 
effectually  cut  off  from  mankind  all  evidence  of  this  prior  sen- 
tence of  desolation  and  abandonment;  the  prediction  itself  being 
thus  rendered  a  dead  letter,  when  viewed  in  regard  to  its  ulterior 
and  most  important  purpose — the  dissemination  of  the  faith. 

Mr.  Stephens  was  strongly  dissuaded  from  his  design.  Almost 
the  only  person  who  encouraged  him  was  Mr.  Gliddon,  our  con- 
sul ;  and  but  for  him  the  idea  would  have  been  abandoned.  The 
dangers  indeed  were  many,  and  the  difficulties  more.  By  good 
fortune,  however,  the  sheik  of  Akaba  was  then  at  Cairo.  The 
great  yearly  caravan  of  pilgrims  for  Mecca  was  assembling  be- 
neath (he  walls,  and  he  had  been  summoned  by  the  pacha  to  es- 
cort and  protect  them  through  the  desert  as  far  as  Akaba.  Hfl 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETRJSA,  ET'J.        523 

was  the  chief  of  a  powerful  tribe  of  Bedouins,  maintaining,  in  all 
its  vigor,  the  independence  of  their  race,  and  bidding  defiance  to 
the  pacha,  while  they  yielded  him  such  obedience  as  comported 
with  their  own  immediate  interests. 

AVith  this  potentate  our  traveller  entered  into  negotiation. 
The  precise  service  required  of  him  was,  to  conduct  Mr.  Stephens 
from  Akaba  to  Hebron,  through  the  land  of  Edom,  diverging  to 
visit  the  excavated  city  of  Petra, — a  journey  of  about  ten  days. 
A  very  indefinite  arrangement  was  at  length  made.  Mr.  Ste- 
phens, after  visiting  Mount  Sinai,  was  to  repair  to  Akaba,  where 
lie  would  meet  the  escort  of  the  Bedouin.  With  a  view  to  pro- 
tection on  his  way  from  Cairo  to  the  Holy  Mountain,  the  latter 
gave  him  his  signet,  which  he  told  him  would  be  respected  by 
all  Arabs  on  the  route. 

The  arrangements  for  the  journey  as  far  as  Mount  Sinai  had 
been  made  for  our  traveller  by  Mr.  Gliddon.  A  Bedouin  was 
procured  as  guide  who  had  been  with  M.  Laborde  to  Petra,  and 
whose  faith,  as  well  as  capacity,  could  be  depended  upon.  The 
caravan  consisted  of  eight  camels  and  dromedaries,  with  three 
young  Arabs  as  drivers.  The  tent  was  the  common  tent  of  the 
Egyptian  soldiers,  bought  at  the  government  factory,  being  very 
light,  ensily  carried  and  pitched.  The  bedding  was  a  mattress 
and  coverlet :  provision,  bread,  biscuit,  rice,  macaroni,  tea,  coffee, 
dried  apricots,  oranges,  a  roasted  leg  of  mutton,  and  two  large 
skins  containing  the  filtered  water  of  the  Nile.  Thus  equipped, 
the  party  struck  immediately  into  the  desert  lying  between  Cairo 
and  Suez,  reaching  the  latter  place,  with  but  little  incident,  after 
a  journey  of  four  clays.  At  Suez,  our  traveller,  wearied  with  his 
experiment  of  the  dromedary,  made  an  attempt  to  hire  a  boat, 
with  a  view  of  proceeding  down  the  Red  Sea  to  Tor,  supposed 
to  be  the  Elino,  or  place  of  palm-trees  mentioned  in  the  Exodus 
of  the  Israelites,  and  only  two  days'  journey  from  Mount  Sinai. 
The  boats,  however,  were  all  taken  by  pilgrims,  and  none  could 
be  procured — at  least  for  so  long  a  voyage.  He  accordingly  sent 
off  his  camels  round  the  head  of  the  gulf,  and  crossing  himself  by 
water,  met  them  on  the  Petrean  side  of  the  sea. 

"  I  am  aware,"  says  Mr.  Stephens,  "  that  there  is  some  dispute 
as  to  the  precise  spot  where  Moses  crossed ;  but  having  no  time 


524        REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR.EA,  ETC. 

lor  skepticism  on  such  matters,  I  began  by  making  up  my  mind 
that  this  was  the  place,  and  then  looked  around  to  see  whether, 
according  to  the  account  given  in  the  Bible,  the  face  of  the  coun- 
try and  the  natural  landmarks  did  not  sustain  my  opinion.  I 
remember  I  looked  up  to  the  head  of  the  gulf,  where  Suez  or 
Kolsum  now  stands,  and  saw  that  almost  to  the  very  head  of  the 
gulf  there  was  a  high  range  of  mountains  which  it  would  be  ne- 
cessary to  cross,  an  undertaking  which  it  would  have  been  phy- 
sically impossible  for  600,000  people,  men,  women,  and  children 
to  accomplish,  with  a  hostile  army  pursuing  them.  At  Suez, 
Moses  could  not  have  been  hemmed  in  as  he  was ;  he  could  g_o 
otf  into  the  Syrian  desert,  or,  unless  the  sea  has  greatly  changed 
since  that  time,  round  the  head  of  the  gulf.  But  here,  directly 
opposite  where  I  sat,  was  an  opening  in  the  mountains,  making 
a  clear  passage  from  the  desert  to  the  shore  of  the  sea.  It  is 
admitted  that  from  the  earliest  history  of  the  country,  there  was 
a  caravan  route  from  the  Kameseh  of  the  Pharaohs  to  this  spot, 
and  it  was  perfectly  clear  to  my  mind  that,  if  the  account  be  true 
at  all,  Moses  had  taken  that  route ;  that  it  was  directly  opposite 
me,  between  the  two  mountains,  whei'e  he  had  come  down 
with  his  multitude  to  the  shore,  and  that  it  was  there  he  had 
found  himself  hemmed  in,  in  the  manner  described  in  the  Bible, 
with  the  sea  before  him,  and  the  army  of  Pharaoh  in  his  rear ;  it 
was  there  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and  divided  the  waters ; 
ajid  probably  on  the  very  spot  where  I  sat  the  children  of  Israel 
had  kneeled  upon  the  sands  to  offer  thanks  to  God  for  his  mira- 
culous interposition.  The  distance,  too,  was  in  confirmation  of 
this  opinion.  It  was  about  twenty  miles  across :  the  distance 
which  that  immense  multitude,  with  their  necessary  baggage, 
could  have  passed  in  the  space  of  time  (a  night)  mentioned  in 
the  Bible.  Besides  my  own  judgment  and  conclusions,  I  had 
authority  on  the  spot,  in  my  Bedouin  Toualeb,  who  talked  of  it 
with  as  much  certainty  as  it'  he  had  seen  it  himself;  and  by  the 
waning  light  of  the  moon,  pointed  out  the  metes  and  bounds 
according  to  the  tradition  received  from  his  fathers." 

Mr.  Stephens  is  here  greatly  in  error,  and  has  placed  himself 
in  direct  opposition  to  all  authority  on  the  subject.  It  is  quite 
evident,  that  since  the  days  of  the  miracle,  the  sea  has  •'  greutly 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETILEA,  ETC.       535 

•.•hanged"  round  the  head  of  the  gulf.  It  is  now  several  feet 
lower,  as  appears  from  the  alluvial  condition  of  several  bitter 
lakes  in  the  vicinity.  On  this  topic  Niebuhr,  who  examined  the 
matter  with  his  accustomed  learning,  acumen,  and  perseverance 
is  indisputable  authority.  But  he  merely  agrees  with  all  the 
most  able  writers  on  this  head.  The  passage  occurred  at  Suez. 
The  chief  arguments  sustaining  this  position  are  deduced  from 
the  ease  by  which  the  miracle  could  have  been  wrought,  on  a 
sea  so  shaped,  by  means  of  a  strong  wind  blowing  from  the  north- 
east. 

Resuming  his  journey  to  the  southward,  our  traveller  passed 
safely  through  a  barren  and  mountainous  region,  bare  of  verdure, 
and  destitute  of  water,  in  about  seven  days  to  Mount  Sinai.  It 
is  to  be  regretted,  that  in  his  account  of  a  country  so  little  tra- 
versed as  this  peninsula,  Mr.  Stephens  has  not  entered  more  into 
detail.  Upon  his  adventures  at  the  Holy  Mountain,  which  are 
of  great  interest,  he  dwells  somewhat  at  length. 

At  Akaba  he  met  the  Sheik  as  by  agreement.  A  horse  of  the 
best  breed  of  Arabia  was  provided,  and,  although  suffering  from 
ill  health,  he  proceeded  manfully  through  the  desert  to  Petra  and 
Mount  Ilor.  The  difficulties  of  the  route  proved  to  be  chiefly 
those  arising  from  the  rapacity  of  his  friend,  the  Slieik  of  Akaba, 
who  threw  a  thousand  impediments  in  his  way  with  the  purpose 
of  magnifying  the  importance  of  the  service  rendered,  and  ob- 
taining, in  consequence,  the  larger  allowance  of  bucksheesh. 

The  account  given  of  Petra  agrees  in  all  important  particulars 
with  those  rendered  by  the  very  few  travellers  who  had  previ- 
ously visited  it.  With  these  accounts  our  readers  are  sufficiently 
acquainted.  The  singular  character  of  the  city,  its  vast  antiquity, 
its  utter  loss,  for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  to  the  eyes  of  the 
civilized  world ;  and,  above  all,  the  solemn  denunciations  of  pro- 
phecy regarding  it,  have  combined  to  invest  these  ruins  with  an 
interest  beyond  that  of  any  others  in  existence,  and  to  render 
what  has  been  written  concerning  them  familiar  knowledge  to 
nearly  every  individual  who  reads. 

Leaving  Petra,  after  visiting  Mount  Ilor,  Mr.  Stephens  re- 
turned to  the  valley  of  El-Ghor,  and  fell  into  the  caravan  route 
for  Ga/a,  which  crosses  the  valley  obliquely  Coming  out  from 


526       REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETR^EA    ETC. 

the  ravine  among  the  mountains  to  the  westward,  he  here  left 
the  road  to  Gaza,  and  pushed  immediately  on  to  Hebron.  This 
distance  (between  the  Gaza  route  and  Hebron)  is,  we  believe, 
the  only  positively  new  route  accomplished  by  our  American 
tourist.  We  understand  that,  in  1826,  Messieurs  Strangewaya 
and  Anson  passed  over  the  ground,  on  the  Gaza  road  from  Petra, 
to  the  point  where  it  deviates  for  Hebron.  On  the  part  of  Mr. 
Stephens's  course,  which  we  have  thus  designated  as  new,  it  is 
well  known  that  a  great  public  road  existed  in  the  later  days  of 
the  Roman  empire,  and  that  several  cities  were  located  immedi- 
ately upon  it.  Mr.  Stephens  discovered  some  ruins,  but  his  state 
of  health,  unfortunately,  prevented  a  minute  investigation.  Those 
which  he  encountered  are  represented  as  forming  rude  and  shape- 
less masses ;  there  were  no  columns,  no  blocks  of  marble,  or  other 
large  stones,  indicating  architectural  greatness.  The  Pentinger 
Tables  place  Helusa  in  this  immediate  vicinity,  and,  but  for  the 
character  of  the  ruins  seen,  we  might  have  supposed  them  to  be 
the  remnants  of  that  city. 

The  latter  part  of  our  author's  second  volume  is  occupied  with 
his  journeyings  in  the  Holy  Land,  and,  principally,  with  an  ac- 
count of  his  visit  to  Jerusalem.  What  relates  to  the  Dead  Sea 
we  are  induced  to  consider  as,  upon  the  whole,  the  most  interest- 
ing, if  not  the  most  important  portion  of  his  book.  It  was  his 
original  intention  to  circumnavigate  this  lake,  but  the  difficulty 
of  procuring  a  boat  proved  an  obstacle  not  to  be  surmounted. 
He  traversed,  nevertheless,  no  little  extent  of  its  shores,  bathed 
in  it,  saw  distincly  that  the  Jordan  does  mingle  with  its  waters, 
and  that  birds  floated  upon  it,  and  flew  over  its  surface. 

But  it  is  time  that  we  conclude.  Mr.  Stephens  passed  through 
Samaria  and  Galilee,  stopping  at  Nablous,  the  ancient  Sychem ; 
the  burial-place  of  the  patriarch  Joseph ;  and  the  ruins  of  Se- 
baste ;  crossed  the  battle-plain  of  Jezreel;  ascended  Mount  Ta- 
bor ;  visited  Nazareth,  the  lake  of  Genesareth,  the  cities  of  Tibe- 
rias and  Saphet,  Mount  Carmel,  Acre,  Sour,  and  Sidon.  At 
Beyroot  he  took  passage  for  Alexandria,  and  thence,  finally  re 
turned  to  Europe. 

The  volumes  are  written  in  general  with  a  freedom,  a  frank- 
ness, and  an  utter  absence  of  pretension,  which  will  secure,  them 


REVIEW  OF  STEPHENS'  ARABIA  PETRjEA,  ETC.       527 

the  respect  and  good-will  of  all  parties.  The  author  professes 
to  have  compiled  his  narrative  merely  from  "  brief  notes  and  re- 
collections," admitting  that  he  has  probably  fallen  into  errors  re- 
garding facts  and  impressions — errors  he  has  been  prevented 
from  seeking  out  and  correcting  by  the  urgency  of  other  occupa- 
tions since  his  return.  We  have,  therefore,  thought  it  quite  as 
well  not  to  trouble  our  readers,  in  this  cursory  review,  with  re- 
ferences to  parallel  travels,  now  familiar,  and  \\hose  merits  and 
demerits  are  sufficiently  well  understood. 

We  take  leave  of  Mr.  Stephens  with  sentiments  of  hearty 
respect.  We  hope  it  is  not  the  last  time  we  shall  hear  from 
him.  He  is  a  traveller  with  whom  we  shall  like  to  take  oilier 
journeys.  Equally  free  from  the  exaggerated  sentimentality 
of  Chateaubriand,  or  the  sublimated,  the  too  French  enthusiasm 
of  Lamartine  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  from  the  degrad- 
ing spirit  of  utilitarianism,  which  sees  in  mountains  and  water- 
falls only  quarries  and  manufacturing  sites,  Mr.  Stephens  writes 
like  a  man  of  good  sense  and  sound  feeling. 


MAGAZINE-WRITING.-PETEB  SNOOK. 


IN  a  late  number  of  the  Democratic  Review,  there  appeared 
a  very  excellent  paper  (by  Mr.  Duyckinck)  on  the  subject  of 
Magazine  Literature— a  subject  much  less  thoroughly  compre- 
hended here  than  either  in  France  or  in  England.  In  America, 
we  compose,  now  and  then,  agreeable  essays  and  other  matters 
of  that  character — but  we  have  not  yet  caught  the  true  Magazine 
spirit — a  thing  neither  to  be  defined  nor  described.  Mr.  Duyck- 
inck's  article,  although  piquant,  is  not  altogether  to  our  mind. 
We  think  he  places  too  low  an  estimate  on  the  capability  of  the 
Magazine  paper.  He  is  inclined  to  undervalue  its  power — to 
limit  unnecessarily  its  province — which  is  illimitable.  In  fact,  it 
is  in  the  extent  of  subject,  and  not  less  in  the  extent  or  variety  of 
tone,  that  the  French  and  English  suipass  us,  to  so  good  a  pur- 
pose.- How  very  rarely  are  we  struck  with  an  American  Maga- 
zine article,  as  with  an  absolute  novelty — how  frequently  the 
foreign  articles  so  affect  us !  We  are  so  circumstanced  as  to  be 
unable  to  pay  for  elaborate  compositions — and,  after  all,  the  true 
invention  is  elaborate.  There  is  no  greater  mistake  than  the 
supposition  that  a  true  originality  is  a  mere  matter  of  impulse  or 
inspiration.  To  originate,  is  carefully,  patiently,  and  understand- 
ingly  to  combine.  The  few  American  Magazinists  who  ever 
think  of  this  elaboration  at  all,  cannot  afford  to  carry  it  into 
practice  for  the  paltry  prices  offered  them  by  our  periodical 
publishers.  For  this  and  other  glaring  reasons,  we  are  behind 
the  age  in  a  very  important  branch  of  literature — a  branch  which, 
moreover,  is  daily  growing  in  importance — and  which,  in  the  end 


MAGAZINE-WRITING— PETER  SNOOK.  529 

(not  far  distant),  will  be  the  most  influential  of  all  the  departments 
of  Letters. 

We  are  lamentably  deficient,  not  only  in  invention  proper,  but 
in  that  which  is,  more  strictly,  art.  What  American,  for  instance, 
in  penning  a  criticism,  ever  supposes  himself  called  upon  to  pre- 
sent his  readers  with  more  than  the  exact  stipulation  of  his  title 
—  to  present  them  with  a  criticism  and  something  beyond?  Who 
thinks  of  making  his  critique  a  work  of  art  in  itself — indepen- 
dently of  its  critical  opinions? — a  work  of  art,  such  as  are  all  the 
more  elaborate,  and  most  effective  reviews  of  Macaulay  ?  Yet, 
these  reviews  we  have  evinced  no  incapacity  to  appreciate,  when 
presented.  The  best  American  review  ever  penned  is  miserably 
ineffective  when  compared  with  the  notice  of  Montagu's  Bacon — 
and  yet  this  latter  is,  in  general,  a  piece  of  tawdry  sophistry, 
owing  everything  to  a  consummate,  to  an  exquisite  arrangement 
— to  a  thorough  and  just  sufficiently  comprehensive  diffuseness — 
to  a  masterly  climating  of  points — to  a  style  which  dazzles  the 
understanding  with  its  brilliancy — but  not  more  than  it  misleads 
it  by  its  perspicuity — causing  us  so  distinctly  to  comprehend  that 
we  fancy  we  coincide — in  a  word,  to  the  perfection  of  art — of  all 
the  art  which  a  Macaulay  can  wield,  or  which  is  applicable  to  any 
criticism  that  a  Macaulay  could  write. 

It  is,  however,  in  the  composition  of  that  class  of  Magazine 
papers  which  come,  properly,  under  the  head  of  Tales,  that  we 
evince  the  most  remarkable  deficiency  in  skill.  If  we  except, 
first,  Mr.  Hawthorne — rsecondly,  Mr.  Simms — thirdly,  Mr.  Wil- 
lis— and  fourthly,  one  or  two  others,  whom  we  may  as  well  put 
mentally  together  without  naming  them — there  is  not  even  a 
respectably  skilful  tale-writer  on  this  side  the  Atlantic.  We 
have  seen,  to  be  sure,  many  very  well-constructed  stories — indi- 
vidual specimens — the  work  of  American  Magazinists;  but  these 
specimens  have  invariably  appeared  to  be  happy  accidents  of 
construction ;  their  authors,  in  subsequent  tales,  having  always 
evinced  an  incapacity  to  construct. 

We  have  been  led  to  a  comparison  of  the  American  witli  the 
British  ability  in  tale-writing,  by  a  perusal  of  some  Magazine 
papers,  the  composition  of  the  author  of  "  Chartley,"  and  "  The 
Invisible  Gentleman."  He  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  English 


530  MAGAZINE-WRITING- PETER  SNOOK. 

journalists,  and  has  some  of  the  happiest  peculiarities  of  Dickens, 
whom  he  preceded  in  the  popular  favor.  The  longest  and  best 
of  his  tales,  properly  so  called,  is  "  Peter  Snook,"  and  this  pre- 
sents so  many  striking  points  for  the  consideration  of  the  Maga- 
zinist,  that  we  feel  disposed  to  give  an  account  of  it  in  full. 

Peter  Snook,  the  hero,  and  the  beau  ideal  of  a  Cockney,  is  a 
retail  linen-draper  in  Bi.shopgate  street.  He  is,  of  course,  u 
stupid  and  conceited,  although,  at  bottom,  a  very  good  little 
fellow,  and  "  always  looks  as  if  he  was  frightened."  Matters  go 
on  very  thrivingly  with  him,  until  he  becomes  acquainted  with 
Miss  Clarinda  Bodkin,  "  a  young  lady  owning  to  almost  thirty, 
and  withal  a  great  proficient  in  the  mysteries  of  millinery  and 
mantua-making."  Love  and  ambition,  however,  set  the  little 
gentleman  somewhat  beside  himself.  "  If  Miss  Clarinda  would 
but  have  me,"  says  he,  "  we  might  divide  the  shop,  and  have  a 
linen-drapery  side,  and  a  haberdashery  and  millinery  side,  and 
one  would  help  the  other.  There'd  be  only  one  rent  to  pay,  and 
a  double  business — and  it  would  be  so  comfortable,  too !"  Think- 
ing thus,  Peter  commences  a  flirtation,  to  which  Miss  Clarinda 
but  doubtfully  responds.  He  escorts  the  lady  to  White  Conduit 
House,  Bagnigge  Wells,  and  other  genteel  places  of  public  resort 
— and,  finally,  is  so  rash  as  to  accede  to  the  proposition,  on  her 
part,  of  a  trip  to  Margate.  At  this  epoch  of  the  narrative,  the 
writer  observes  that  the  subsequent  proceedings  of  the  hero  are 
gathered  from  accounts  rendered  by  himself,  when  called  upon, 
after  the  trip,  for  explanation. 

It  is  agreed  that  Miss  Clarinda  shall  set  out  alone  for  Margate 
— Mr.  Snook  following  her,  after  some  indispensable  arrange- 
ments. These  occupy  him  until  the  middle  of  July,  at  which 
period,  taking  passage  in  the  "  Rose  in  June,"  he  safely  reaches 
his  destination.  But  various  misfortunes  here  await  him, — mis- 
fortunes admirably  adapted  to  the  meridian  of  Cockney  feeling, 
and  the  capacity  of  Cockney  endurance.  His  umbrella,  for 
example,  and  a  large  brown  paper  parcel,  containing  a  new  pea- 
green  coat  and  flower-patterned  embroidered  silk  waistcoat,  arc 
tumbled  into  the  water  at  the  landing-place,  and  Miss  Bodkin 
forbids  him  her  presence  in  his  old  clothes.  By  a  tumble  of  his 
own,  too,  the  skin  is  rubbed  from  both  his  shin0  for  several 


MAGAZINE-WRITING— PETER  SNOOK.  531 

inches,  and  the  surgeon,  having  no  regard  to  the  lover's  cotillon 
engagements,  enjoinj  on  him  a  total  abstinence  from  dancing.  A 
cock-chafer,  moreover,  is  at  the  trouble  of  flying  into  one  of  his 
eyes,  and  (worse  than  all)  a  tall  military-looking  shoemaker, 
Mr.  Last,  has  taken  advantage  of  the  linen-draper's  delay  in 
reaching  Margate,  to  ingratiate  himself  with  his  mistress.  Finally, 
he  is  cut  by  Last,  and  rejected  by  the  lady,  and  has  nothing  left 
for  it,  but  to  secure  a  homeward  passage  in  the  "  Rose  in  June." 

In  the  evening  of  the  second  day  after  his  departure,  the  vessel 
drops  anchor  off  Greenwich.  Most  of  the  passengers  go  ashore, 
with  the  view  of  taking  the  stage  to  the  city.  Peter,  however, 
who  considers  that  he  has  already  spent  money  enough  to  no 
purpose,  prefers  remaining  on  board.  ''  We  shall  get  to  Billings- 
gate," says  he,  "  while  I  am  sleeping,  and  I  shall  have  plenty  of 
time  to  go  home  and  dress,  and  go  into  the  city  and  borrow  the 
trifle  I  may  want  for  Pester  and  Company's  bill,  that  comes  due 
the  day  after  to-morrow."  This  determination  is  a  source  of 
much  trouble  to  our  hero,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel.  Some 
shopmen  who  remain  with  him  in  the  packet,  tempt  him  to  un- 
usual indulgences,  in  the  way,  first,  of  brown  stout,  and,  secondly, 
of  positive  French  brandy.  The  consequence  is,  that  Mr.  Snook 
falls,  thirdly,  asleep,  and,  fourthly,  overboard. 

About  dawn  on  the  morning  after  this  event,  Ephraim  Hob>on, 
the  confidential  clerk  and  factotum  of  Mr.  Peter  Snook,  is  dis- 
turbed from  a  sound  sleep  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  his  mas- 
ter. That  gentleman  seems  to  be  quite  in  a  bustle,  and  delights 
Ephraim  with  an  account  of  a  whacking  wholesale  order  for 
exportation  just  received.  "  Not  a  word  to  anybody  about  the 
matter !"  exclaims  Peter,  with  unusual  emphasis.  "  It's  such  an 
opportunity  as  don't  come  often  in  a  man's  life-time.  There's  a 
captain  of  a  ship — he's  the  owner  of  her,  too;  but  never  mind! 
there  an't  time  to  enter  into  particulars  now,  but  you'll  know  all 
by  and  bye — all  you  have  to  do,  is  to  do  as  I  tell  you — so,  come 
along !" 

Setting  Ephraim  to  work,  with  direction:-  to  pack  up  imme- 
diately all  the  goods  in  the  shop,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
trifling  articles,  the  master  avows  his  intention  of  going  into  the 
city,  "  to  borrow  enough  money  to  make  up  Fester's  bill,  due  to- 


532  MAGAZINE-WRITING— PETER  SNOOK. 

morrow."  "I  don't  think  you'll  want  much,  Sir,"  replied  Mr 
Ilobsoa  with  a  self-complacent  air.  "  I've  been  looking  about 
long-winded  'uns,  you  see,  since  you've  been  gone,  and  I've  got 
Shy's  money  and  Slack's  account,  which  we'd  pretty  well  given 
up  for  a  bad  job,  and  one  or  two  more.  There, — there's  the  list 
— and  there's  the  key  to  the  strong  box,  where  you'll  find  the 
money,  besides  what  I've  took  at  the  counter."  Peter,  at  this, 
seems  well  pleased,  and  shortly  afterwards  goes  out,  saying,  he 
cannot  tell  when  he'll  be  back,  and,  giving  directions  that  what- 
ever goods  may  be  sent  in  during  his  absence,  shall  be  left  un- 
touched till  his  return. 

It  appears  that,  after  leaving  his  shop,  Mr.  Snook  proceeded 
to  tliat  of  Jobb,  Flashbill  &  Co.,  (one  of  whose  clerks,  on  board 
the  "  Rose  in  June,"  had  been  very  liberal  in  supplying  our  hero 
Avilh  brandy  on  the  night  of  his  ducking.)  looked  over  a  large 
quantity  of  ducks  and  other  goods,  and  finally  made  purchase  of 
"  a  choice  assortment,"  to  be  delivered  the  same  day.  His  next 
visit  was  to  Mr.  Bluff,  the  managing  partner  in  the  banking- 
house  where  he  usually  kept  his  cash.  His  business  now  was  to 
request  permission  to  overdraw  a  hundred  pounds  for  a  f<:w 
days. 

"  Humph,1'  said  Mr.  Bluff",  "  money  is  very  scarce  ;  but — Bless  me ! — yes 
— it's  lie!  Excuse  me  a  minute,  Mr.  Snook,  there's  a  gentleman  at  the 
front  counter  whom  I  want  particularly  to  speak  to — I'll  be  back  with  you 
directly."  As  he  uttered  these  words,  he  rushed  out,  and,  in  passing  one 
of  the  clerks  on  his  way  forward,  he  whispered,  "  Tell  Scribe  to  look  at 
Snook's  account,  and  lot  me  know  directly."  He,  then,  went  to  the  front 
counter,  where  several  people  were  waiting  to  pay  and  receive  money. 
"  Fine  weather  this,  Mr.  Butt.  What !  you're  not  out  of  town  like  the  rest 
of  them !" 

"  No."  replied  Mr.  Butt,  who  kept  a  thriving  gin-shop,  "  no,  I  sticks  to 
.my  business — make  hay  while  the  sun  shines — that's  my  maxim.  Wife  up 
at  night — I" up  early  in  the  morning." 

The  banker  chatted  and  listened  with  great  apparent  interest,  till  the 
rlosing  of  a  huge  book  on  which  he  kept  his  eye,  told  him  that  his  whispered 
order  had  been  attended  to.  He  then  took  a  gracious  leave  of  Mr.  Butt, 
and  returned  back  to  the  counting-house  with  a  slip  of  paper,  adroitly  put  in 
his  hand  while  passing,  on  which  was  written,  "  Peter  Snook,  Linen  Draper, 
Bishopgate  Street — old  account — increasing  gradually — balance:  £  153  15s. 
Cif. — very  regular."  "  Sorry  to  keep  you  wai'.ing,  Mr.  Snook,"  said  he,  "  but 


MAGAZINE-WETTING— PETER  SNOOK.  533 

ivc  must  catch  people  when  we  can.     Well,  what  is  it  you  wore  saying  you 
wanted  us  to  do  T' 

"  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  overdraw  just  for  a  few  days,"  replied  Peter 

"  How  much  1" 

"  A  hundred." 
•    "  Won't  fifty  do  1" 

"  No,  not  quite,  sir." 

•'  Well,  you're  an  honest  fellow,  and  don't  come  bothering  us  often  ;  so,  I 
sippose  we  must  not  be  too  particular  with  you  for  this  once." 

Leaving  Bluff,  Mr.  Snook  hurries  to  overtake  Mr.  Butt,  the 
dealer  in  spirits,  who  had  just  left  the  banking-house  before 
himself,  and  to  give  that  gentleman  an  order  for  a  hogshead  of 
the  best  gin.  As  he  is  personally  unknown  to  Mr.  Butt,  he  hands 
him  a  card,  on  which  is  written,  "  Peter  Snook,  linen  and  muslin 
ware  house,  No. — ,  Bishopgate  Street  within,"  &c.,  &c.,  and 
takes  occasion  to  mention  that  he  purchases  at  the  recommenda- 
tion of  Mr.  Bluif.  The  gin  is  to  be  at  Queenhithe  the  same  even- 
ing. The  spirit-dealer,  as  soon  as  his  new  customer  has  taken 
leave,  revolves  in  his  mind  the  oddity  of  a  linen  draper's  buying 
a  hogshead  of  gin,  and  determines  to  satisfy  himself  of  Mr. 
Snook's  responsibility  by  a  personal  application  to  Mr.  Bluif. 
On  reaching  the  bank,  however,  he  is  told  by  the  clerks  that 
Mr.  Bluff,  being  in  attendance  upon  a  committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  will  not  be  home  in  any  reasonable  time — but  also 
that  Peter  Snook  is  a  perfectly  safe  man.  The  gin  is  according- 
ly sent ;  and  several  other  large  orders  for  different  goods,  upon 
other  houses,  are  promptly  fulfilled  in  the  same  manner.  Mean- 
time, Ephraini  is  busily  engaged  at  home  in  receiving  and 
inspecting  the  invoices  of  the  various  purchases  as  they  arrive, 
at  which  employment  he  is  occupied  until  dusk,  when  his  master 
makes  his  appearance  in  unusually  high  spirits.  We  must  here 
be  pardoned  for  copying  some  passages  : 

"  Well,  Ephraim,"  he  exclaimed,  "  this   looks  something  like  business 
You  havn't  had  such  a  job  this  many  a  day!     Shop  looks  well  now,  eh?" 

"  You  know  best,  sir,"  replied  Hobson.  "  But  hang  me  if  I  an't  frighten 
ed.  When  we  shall  sell  all  these  goods.  I'm  sure  I  can't  think.  You  talked 
of  having  a  haberdashery  side  to  the  shop ;  but  if  we  go  on  at  (his  rate,  we 
shall  want  another  side  for  ourselves  ;  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  where  His* 
is  to  bo  put." 


r>U  MAGAZINE-WRITING— I'ETEIl  SNOOK. 

"She  go  to  Jericho !"  said  Peter  contemptuously.  "  As  for  the  goods, 
ray  boy,  they'll  be  gone  before  to-morrow  morning.  All  you  and  I  have  jjot 
to  do,  is  to  pack  'em  up ;  so,  let  us  turn  to,  and  strap  at  it." 

Packing  was  Ephraim's  favorite  employment,  but,  on  the  present  occasion, 
he  set  to  work  with  a  heavy  heart.  His  master,  on  the  contrary,  appeared 
full  of  life  and  spirits,  and  corded  boxes,  sewed  up  trusses,  and  packed  huge 
paper  parcels  with  a  celerity  and  an  adroitness  truly  wonderful. 

•'  Why,  you  don't  get  on,  Hobsun."  he  exclaimed  ;  "  see  what  I've  done  ! 
Where's  the  ink-pot  ]• — ;oh,  here  it  is  !"  and  he  proceeded  to  mark  his  packagoa 
with  his  initials,  and  the  letter  G  below.  "  There, >r  he  resumed,  "  P.  S.  G. ; 
that's  for  me,  at  Gravesend.  I'm  to  meet  the  Captain  and  owner  there , 
show  the  goods — if  there's  any  he  don't  like,  shall  bring  'em  back  with  me  ; 
get  bills — bankers'  acceptances  for  the  rest ;  see  'cm  safe  on  board  ;  then- 
bat  not  before,  mind  that,  Master  Ephraim  !  No,  no,  keep  my  weather  eye 
open,  as  the  men  say  on  board  the  "  Rose  in  June."  By-t'he-bye,  I  havn't 
told  you  yet  about  my  falling  overboard,  whap  into  the  river." 

"  Falling  overboard  !"  exclaimed  the  astonished  shopman,  quitting  his 
occupation  to  stand  erect  and  listen. 

"  Ay,  ay,"  continued  Peter — '•  see  it  won't  do  to  tell  you  long  stories  now. 
There — mark  that  truss,  will  you  1  Know  all  about  it  some  day.  Lucky 
job,  though — tell  you  that  :  got  this  thundering  order  by  it.  Had  one 
tumble,  first,  going  off,  at  Margate.  Spoilt  my  peagreen — never  mind — 
that  was  a  lucky  tumble,  too.  Hadn't  been  for  that,  shouldn't  so  soon  have 
found  out  the  game  a  certain  person  was  playing  with  me.  'She  go  to 
Jericho !" 

But  for  the  frequent  repetition  of  this  favorite  expression,  Ephraim  Hob- 
son  has  since  declared  he  should  have  doubted  his  master's  identity  during 
the  whole  of  that  evening,  as  there  was  something  very  singular  about  him . 
and  his  strength  and  activity  in  moving  the  bales,  boxes,  and  trusses,  were 
such  as  he  had  never  previously  exhibited.  The  phrase  condemning  this 
that,  or  the  other  thing  or  person  to  "  go  to  Jericho."  was  the  only  expres- 
sion that  he  uttered,  as  the  shopman  said,  ''  naturally,"  and  Peter  repeated 
that  whimsical  anathema  as  often  as  usual. 

The  goods'  being  all  packed  up,  carts  arrive  to  carry  them 
away ;  and,  by  half-past  ten  o'clock,  the  shop  is  entirely  cleared, 
with  the  exception  of  some  trifling  articles,  to  make  show  on  ihe 
shelves  and  counters.  Two  hackney  coaches  are  called.  Mr. 
i'eter  Snook  gets  into  one  with  a  variety  of  loose  articles,  which 
would  require  too  much  time  to  pack,  and  his  shopman  info  : 
another  with  some  more.  Arriving  at  Queenhithe,  they  find  all 
(he  goods  previously  sent,  already  embarked  in  the  hold  of  a  long- 
decked  barge,  which  lies  near  the  shore.  Mr.  Snook  now  insists 
apon  Ephraim's  going  on  board,  and  taking  supper  and  some  hot 


MAGAZINE-WRITING—  PETER  SXOOK.  533 

rum  and  water.  This  advice  he  follows  to  so  good  purpose,  that 
he  is,  at  length,  completely  bewildered,  when  his  master,  taking 
him  up  in  his  arms,  carries  him  on  shore,  and  there,  setting  him 
down,  leaves  him  to  make  the  best  of  his  way  home  as  he  can. 

About  eight,  the  next  morning,  Ephraim,  awaking,  of  course, 
in  a  sad  condition,  both  of  body  and  mind,  sets  himself  imme- 
diately about  arranging  the  appearance  of  the  shop,  "  so  as  to 
secure  the  credit  of  the  concern."  In  spite  of  all  his  ingenuity, 
however,  it  maintains  a  poverty-stricken  appearance, — which 
circumstance  excites  some  most  unreasonable  suspicions  in  the 
mind  of  Mr.  Bluff's  clerk,  upon  his  calling  at  ten,  with  Pestet 
&  Co.'s  bill,  (three  hundred  and  sixteen  pounds,  seventeen 
shillings,)  and  receiving,  by  way  of  payment,  a  check  upon  his 
own  banking  house  for  the  amount — Mr.  Snook  having  written 
this  check  before  his  departure  with  the  goods,  and  left  it  with 
Ephraim.  On  reaching  the  bank,  therefore,  the  clerk  inquires 
if  Peter  Snook's  check  is  good  for  three  hundred  and  sixteen 
pounds  odd,  and  is  told  that  it  is  not  worth  a  farthing,  Mr.  S. 
having  overdrawn  for  a  hundred.  While  Mr.  Bluff  and  his  as- 
sistants are  conversing  on  this  subject,  Butt,  the  gin-dealer,  calls 
to  thank  the  banker  for  having  recommended  him  a  customer — 
which  the  banker  denies  having  done.  An  explanation  ensues, 
and  "  stop  thief!"  is  the  cry.  Ephraim  is  sent  for,  and  reluctant- 
ly made  to  tell  all  he  knows  of  his  master's  proceedings  on  the 
day  before — by  which  means  a  knowledge  is  obtained  of  the 
other  houses,  who  (it  is  supposed)  have  been  swindled.  Getting 
a  description  of  the  barge  which  conveyed  the  goods  from  Queen- 
bkhe,  the  whole  party  of  the  creditors  now  set  off  in  pursuit. 

About  dawn,  the  next  morning,  they  overtake  the  barge,  a 
little  below  Gravesend — when  lour  men  are  observed  leaving 
her,  and  rowing  to  the  shore  in  a  skiff.  Peter  Snook  is  found 
sitting  quietly  in  the  cabin,  and,  although  apparently  a  little 
surprised  at  seeing  Mr.  Pester,  betrays  nothing  like  embarrass- 
ment or  fear. 

''Ah,  Mr.  Pester!  is  it  you?  Glad  to  sec  you,  sir!  So  you've  been 
taking  a  trip  out  o'  town,  and  are  going  back  with  usl  We  shall  get  to 
Billingsgate  between  eight  and  nine,  they  say  ;  and  I  hope  it  won't  be  later( 
as  I've  a  bill  of  yours  comes  due  to-day,  and  1  want  to  be  at  home  in  time  U 
write  a  check  for  it."  , 


536  MAGAZINE-WRITING—PETER  SNOOK. 

Tlw  goods  are  also  found  on  board,  together  with  three  men  in 
the  huld,  gagged  and  tied  hand  and  foot.  They  give  a  strange 
account  of  themselves.  Being  in  the  employ  of  Mr.  Heaviside, 
a  lighterman,  they  were  put  in  charge  of  "  The  Flitter,"  when 
she  was  hired  by  Peter  Snook,  for  a  trip  to  Gravesend.  Accord- 
ing to  their  orders,  they  took  the  barge,  in  the  first  instance,  to  a 
wharf,  near  Queenhithe,  and  helped  to  load  her  with  some  goods 
brought  down  in  carts.  Mr.  Snook,  afterwards,  came  on  board, 
bringing  with  him  two  fierce  looking  men,  and  "  a  little  man  with 
a  hooked  nose."  (Ephraim.)  Mr.  S.  and  the  little  man,  then, 
"had  a  sort  of  jollification"  in  the  cabin,  till  the  latter  got  drunk 
and  was  carried  ashore.  They  then  proceeded  down  the  river 
nothing  particular  occurring  till  they  had  passed  Greenwich 
Hospital,  when  Mr.  S.  ordered  them  to  lay  the  barge  alongside  a 
large  black-sided  ship.  No  sooner  was  the  order  obeyed  than 
they  were  boarded  by  a  number  of  men  from  said  ship,  who 
seized  them,  bound  them,  gagged  them  and  put  them  in  the 
hold. 

The  immediate  consequence  of  this  information  is,  that  Peter 
is  bound,  gagged,  and  put  down  into  the  hold  in  the  same  man- 
Tier,  by  way  of  retaliation,  and  for  safe  keeping  on  his  way  back 
to  the  city.  On  the  arrival  of  the  party,  a  meeting  of  the  credi- 
tors is  called.  Peter  appears  before  them  in  a  great  rage,  and 
with  the  air  of  an  injured  man.  Indeed,  his  behavior  is  so  mal 
a  propos  to  his  situation  as  entirely  to  puzzle  his  interrogators. 
He  accuses  the  whole  party  of  a  conspiracy. 

''  Peter  Snook,"  said  Mr.  Poster  solemnly,  from  the  chair,  -'that  look  does 
not  become  you  after  what  has  passed.  Let  me  advise  you  to  conduct  your- 
self with  propriety.  You  will  find  that  the  best  policy,  depend  on't.1' 

"  A  pretty  thing  for  you,  for  to  come  to  talk  of  propriety  !"  exclaimed 
Peter;  •'  you,  that  seed  me  laid  hold  on  by  a  set  of  ruffians,  and  never  said 
a  word,  nor  given  information  a'terwards  !  And  here  have  I  been  kept  away 
from  business  I  don't  know  how  long,  and  shut  up  like  a  dog  in  a  kennel ; 
hut  I  look  upon't  you  were  at  the  bottom  of  it  all — you  and  that  fellow  with 
the  plum-pudding  face,  as  blowed  me  up  about  a  cask  of  gin  !  What  you 
both  mean  by  it,  I  can't  think ;  but  if  there's  any  law  in  the  land,  I'll  make 
you  remember  it,  both  of  you — that's  what  I  will !"  . 

Mr.  Snook  swears  that  he  never  saw  Jobb  in  his  life,  except 


MAGAZINE-WRITING—PETER  SNOOK.  587 

on  the  occasion  of  his  capture  in  "  The  Flitter,"  and  positively 
denies  having  looked  out  any  parcel  of  goods  at  the  house  of 
Jobb,  Flashbill  &  Co.  With  the  banker,  Mr.  Bluff,  he  acknow- 
ledges an  acquaintance — but  not  having  drawn  for  the  two  hun- 
dred and  seventy  pounds  odd,  or  having  ever  overdrawn  for  a 
shilling  in  his  life.  Moreover,  he  is  clearly  of  opinion  that  the 
banker  has  still  in  his  hands  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  of  his  (Mr.  Snook's)  money.  He  can  designate  several 
gentlemen  as  being  no  creditors  of  his,  although  they  were  of  the 
number  of  those  from  whom  his  purchases  had  been  made  for 
the  "  whacking "  shipping  out,  and  although  their  goods  were 
found  in  "  The  Flitter."  E)phraim  is  summoned,  and  testifies  to 
all  the  particulars  of  his  master's  return,  and  the  subsequent 
packing,  cart-loading,  and  embarkation  as  already  told — account- 
ing for  the  extravagances  of  Mr.  Snook  as  being  "  all  along  of 
that  Miss  Bodkin." 

'•Lor1,  master,  hi's  glad  to  see  you  agin,"  exclaimed  Ephrahn.  "Who'd 
ha'  thought  as  'twould  come  to  this  ?" 

''Come  to  what]"  cried  Peter.  '•  I'll  make  'em  repent  of  it,  every  man 
Jack  of  em,  before  I've  done,  if  there's  law  to  be  had  for  love  or  money  !'' 

"  Ah.  sir,"  said  Ephraim,  '*  we'd  better  have  stuck  to  the  retail.  I  was 
afraid  that  shipping  consarn  wouldn't  answer,  and  tell'd  you  so.  if  you  re 
collect,  but  you  wouldn't  harken  to  me." 

"  What  shipping  concern  !"  inquired  Peter,  with  a  look  of  amazement. 

"La  !  master,"  exclaimed  Ephraim,  "  it  aint  of  any  use  to  pretend  to  keep 
\t  a  secret  now,  when  everybody  knows  it.  I  didn't  tell  Mr.  Pester,  though, 
'.ill  the  last,  when  all  the  goods  was  gone  out  of  the  shop,  and  the  sheriff's 
<jflicers  had  come  to  take  possession  of  the  house." 

"  Sheriff's  officers  in  possession  of  my  house  !"  roared  Peter.  "All  the 
goods  gone  out  of  the  shop !  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  rascal  ! 
What  have  you  been  doing  in  my  absence  1"  And  he  sprang  forward  furi- 
ously, and  seized  the  trembling  shopman  by  the  collar  with  a  degree  of  vio- 
lence which  rendered  it  difficult  for  the  two  officers  in  attendance  to  disen- 
gage him  from  his  hold. 

Hereupon,  Mr.  Snap,  the  attorney  retained  by  the  creditors, 
harangues  the  company  at  some  length,  and  intimates  that  Mr. 
S:iook  is  either  mad  or  acting  the  madman  for  the  purpose  of 
evading  punishment.  A  practitioner  from  Bedlam  is  sent  for, 
and  some  artifices  resorted  to — but  to  no  purpose".  It  is  found 


5o8  MAGAZINE- WRITING— PETER   SNOOK. 

impossible  to  decide  upon  the  question  of  sanity.  The  medical 
gentleman,  in  his  report  to  the  creditors,  confesses  himself  utterly 
perplexed,  and,  without  giving  a  decision,  details  the  particulars 
of  a  singular  story  told  him  by  Mr.  Snook  himself,  concerning 
the  mode  of  his  escape  from  drowning  after  he  fell  overboard 
from  the  "  Rose  in  June."  (i  It  is  a  strange,  unlikely  tale  to  be 
sure,"  says  the  physician,  "  and  if  his  general  conversation  was 
of  that  wild,  imaginative,  flighty  kind  which  I  have  so  often  wit- 
nessed, I  should  say  it  was  purely  ideal ;  but  he  appears  such  a 
plain-spoken,  simple  sort  of  a  person,  that  it  is  difficult  to  con- 
ceive how  he  could  invent  such  a  fiction."  Mr.  Snook's  narra- 
tion is  then  told,  not  in  his  very  words,  but  in  the  author's  own 
way.  with  all  the  particulars  obtained  from  Peter's  various  reci- 
tations.. We  give  it  only  in  brief. 

Upon  tumbling  overboard,  Mr.  Snook  (at  least  according  to 
his  own  story)  swam  courageously  as  long  as  he  could.  He  was 
upon  the  point  of  sinking,  however,  when  an  oar  was  thrust  under 
his  arm,  and  he  found  himself  lifted  in  a  boat  by  a  "  dozen  dark- 
looking  men."  He  is  taken  on  board  a  large  ship,  and  the  cao- 
tain,  who  is  a  droll  genius,  and  talks  in  rhyme  somewhat  after 
the  fashion  of  the  wondrous  Tale  of  Alroy,  entertains  him  with 
great  cordiality,  dresses  him  in  a  suit  of  his  own  clothes,  makes 
him  drink  in  the  first  place,  a  brimmer  of  "  something  hot,"  and 
afterwards  plies  him  with  wines  and  cordials  of  all  kinds,  at  a 
supper  of  the  most  magnificent  description.  Warmed  in  body 
and  mind  by  this  excellent  cheer,  Peter  reveals  his  inmost  secrets 
to  his  host,  and  talks  freely  and  minutely  of  a  thousand  things ; 
of  his  man  Ephraim  and  his  oddities  ;  of  his  bank  account ;  of  his 
great  credit ;  of  his  adventures  with  Miss  Bodkin ;  of  his  pros- 
pects in  trade ;  and  especially  of  the  names,  residences,  etc.  etc., 
of  the  wholesale  houses  with  whom  he  is  in  the  habit  of  dealing. 
Presently,  being  somewhat  overcome  with  wine,  he  goes  to  bed 
at  the  suggestion  of  the  captain,  who  promises  to  call  him  in  sea- 
eon  for  a  boat  in  the  morning,  which  will  convey  him  to  Billings- 
gate in  full  time  f(  r  Pester  and  Co.'s  note.  How  long  he  slept  is 
uncertain — but  when  he  awoke  a  great  change  was  observable  in 
the  captain's  manner,  who  was  somewhat  brusque,  and  handed 
him  over  the  ship's  side  into  the  barge  where  he  was  discovered 


MAGAZINE-WRITING-PETER   SNOOK.  539 

by  the  creditors  in  pursuit,  and  which  he  was  assured  would  con« 
vey  him  to  Billingsgate. 

This  relation,  thus  succinctly  given  by  us,  implies  little  or 
nothing.  The  result,  however,  to  which  the  reader  is  ingeni- 
ously led  by  the  author,  is,  that  the  real  Peter  Snook  has  been 
duped,  and  that  the  Peter  Snook  who  made  the  various  purchases 
about  town,  and  who  appeared  to  Ephraim  onl;r  during  the  morn- 
ing and  evening  twilight  of  the  eventful  day,  was,  in  fact,  no 
other  person  than  the  captain  of  "the  strange,  black-sided  ship." 
AVc  are  to  believe  that,  taking  advantage  of  Peter's  communica- 
tiveness, and  a  certain  degree  of  personal  resemblance  to  him- 
self, he  assumed  our  hero's  clothes  while  he  slept,  and  made  a 
bold  and  nearly  successful  attempt  at  wholesale  peculation. 

The  incidents  of  this  story  are  forcibly  conceived,  and  even  in 
the  hands  of  an  ordinary  writer  would  scarcely  fail  of  effect. 
But,  in  the  present  instance,  so  unusual  a  tact  is  developed  in 
the  narration,  that  we  are  inclined  to  rank  "  Peter  Snook"  among 
the  few  tales  which  (each  in  its  own  way)  are  absolutely  fault- 
less. It  is  a  Flemish  home-piece  of  the  highest  order — its  merits 
lying  in  its  chiaro  'scuro — in  that  blending  of  light  and  shade  and 
shadow,  where  nothing  is  too  distinct,  yet  where  the  idea  is  fully 
conveyed — in  the  absence  of  all  rigid  outlines  and  all  miniature 
painting — in  the  not  undue  warmth  of  the  coloring — and  in  a 
well  subdued  exaggeration  at  all  points — an  exaggeration  never 
amounting  to  caricature. 


THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON-A  SATIRE  * 

A  SATIRE,  professedly  such,  at  the  present  day,  and  espe- 
cially by  an  American  writer,  is  a  welcome  novelty  indeed. 
"W  e  have  really  done  very  Httle  in  the  line  upon  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic — nothing  certainly  of  importance — Trurn  bull's 
clumsy  poem  and  Halleck's  "  Croakers  "  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding. Some  things  we  have  produced,  to  be  sure,  which 
were  excellent  in  the  way  of  burlesque,  without  intending  a 
syllable  that  was  not  utterly  solemn  and  serious.  Odes,  bal- 
lads, songs,  sonnets,  epics,  and  epigrams,  possessed  of  this  un- 
intentional excellence,  we  could  have  no  difficulty  in  designat- 
ing by  the  dozen ;  but  in  the  matter  of  directly-meant  and 
genuine  satire,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  we  are  sadly  defi- 
cient. Although,  as  a  literary  people,  however,  we  are  not 
exactly  Archilocuses — although  we  have  no  pretensions  to  the 
rfXSrfvrsS  tajufioi — although,  in  short,  we  are  no  satirists  our- 
selves, there  can  be  no  question  that'we  answer  sufficiently  well 
as  subjects  for  satire. 

We  repeat,  that  we  are  glad  to  see  this  book  of  Mr.  Wil- 
mer's  ;  first,  because  it  is  something  new  under  the  sun  ;  se- 
condly, because,  in  many  respects,  it  is  well  executed ;  and 
thirdly,  because  in  the  universal  corruption  and  rigmarole  amid 
which  we  gasp  for  breath,  it  is  really  a  pleasant  thing  to  get 
even  one  accidental  whiff  of  the  unadulterated  air  of  truth. 

The  "  Quacks  of  Helicon,"  as  a  poem  and  otherwise,  has  many 

defects,  and  these  we  shall  have  no  scruple  in   pointing  out — 

although  Mr.  Wilmer  is  a  personal  friend  of  our  own,  and  we 

are  happy  and  proud  to  say  so — but  it  has  also  many  remarkable 

*  By  L.  A.  Wilmer. 


THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE.  541 

merits — merits  which  it  will  be  quite  useless  for  those  aggrieved 
by  the  satire — quite  useless  for  any  clique,  or  set  of  cliques,  to 
attempt  to  frown  down,  or  to  affect  not  to  see,  or  to  feel,  or  to 
understand. 

Its  prevalent  blemishes  are  referrible  chiefly  to  the  leading 
sin  of  imitation.  Had  the  work  been  composed  professedly  in 
paraphrase  of  the  whole  manner  of  the  sarcastic  epistles  of  the 
times  of  Dryden  and  Pope,  we  should  have  pronounced  it  the 
most  ingenious  and  trutliful  thing  of  the  kind  upon  record.  So 
close  is  the  copy,  that  it  extends  to  the  most  trivial  points — for 
example,  to  the  old  forms  of  punctuation.  The  turns  of  phrase- 
ology, the  tricks  of  rhythm,  the  arrangement  of  the  paragraphs, 
the  general  conduct  of  the  satire — everything — all — are  Dryden's. 
We  cannot  deny,  it  is  true,  that  the  satiric  model  of  the  days  in 
question  is  insusceptible  of  improvement,  and  that  the  modern 
author  who  deviates  therefrom,  must  necessa*  ily  sacrifice  some- 
thing of  merit  at  the  shrine  of  originality.  Neither  can  we  shut 
our  eyes  to  the  fact,  that  the  imitation,  in  the  present  case,  has 
conveyed,  in  full  spirit,  the  higher  qualities,  as  well  as,  in  rigid 
letter,  the  minor  elegances  and  general  peculiarities  of  the  authoi 
of  "  Absalom  and  Achitophel."  We  have  here  the  bold,  vigor- 
ous, and  sonorous  verse,  the  biting  sarcasm,  the  pungent  epi- 
grammatism,  the  unscrupulous  directness,  as  of  old.  Yet  it  will 
not  do  to  forget  that  Mr.  Wiliner  has  been  shown  how  to  accom- 
plish these  things.  He  is  thus  only  entitled  to  the  praise  of  a 
close  observer,  and  of  a  thoughtful  and  skilful  copyist.  The  im- 
ages are,  to  be  sure,  his  own.  They  are  neither  Pope's,  nor 
Dryden's,  nor  Rochester's,  nor  Churchill's — rbut  they  are  moulded 
in  the  identical  mould  used  by  these  satirists. 

This  servility  of  imitation  has  seduced  our  author  into  errors, 
which  his  better  sense  should  have  avoided.  "Il-e  sometimes  mis- 
takes intentions  ;  at  other  times,  he  copies  faults,  confounding  them 
with  beauties.  In  the  opening  of  the  poem,  for  example,  we  find 
the  lines — 

Against  usurpers,  Olney,  I  declare 
A  righteous,  just,  and  patriotic  war. 

Tl:e  rhymes  war  and  declare  are  here  adopted  from  Pope,  who 


542  THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON-  -A  SATIRE. 

employs  them  frequently ;  but  it  should  have  been  remembered 
that  the  modern  relative  pronunciation  of  the  two  words  differs 
materially  from  the  relative  pronunciation  of  the  era  of  the 
"  Dunciad." 

We  are  also  sure  that  the  gross  obscenity,  the  filth — we  can 
use  no  gentler  name — which  disgraces  the  "  Quacks  of  Helicon," 
cannot  be  the  result  of  innate  impurity  in  the  mind  of  the  writer. 
It  is  but  a  part  of  the  slavish  and  indiscriminating  imitation  of 
the  Swift  and  Rochester  school.  It  has  done  the  book  an  irre- 
parable injury,  both  in  a  moral  and  pecuniary  view,  without 
effecting  anything  whatever  on  the  score  of  sarcasm,  vigor  or  wit. 
"  Let  what  is  to  be  said,  be  said  plainly."  True ;  but  let  nothing 
vulgar  be  ever  said,  or  conceived. 

In  asserting  that  this  satire,  even  in  its  mannerism,  has  imbued 
itself  with  the  full  spirit  of  the  polish  and  of  the  pungency  of 
Dryden,  we  have  already  awarded  it  high  praise.  But  there 
remains  to  be  mentioned  the  far  loftier  merit  of  speaking  fear- 
lessly the  truth,  at  an  epoch  when  truth  is  out  of  fashion,  and 
under  circumstances  of  social  position,  which  would  have  deterred 
almost  any  man  in  our  community  from  a  similar  Quixotism. 
For  the  publication  of  the  "  Quacks  of  Helicon," — a  poem  which 
brings  under  review,  by  name,  most  of  our  prominent  literati,  and 
treats  them,  generally,  as  they  deserve,  (what  treatment  could 
be  more  bitter  ?) — for  the  publication  of  this  attack,  Mr.  Wil- 
mer,  whose  subsistence  lies  in  his  pen,  has  little  to  look  for— 
apart  from  the  silent  respect  of  those  at  once  honest  and  timid — • 
but  the  most  malignant  open  or  covert  persecution.  For  this 
reason,  and  because  it  is  the  truth  which  he  has  spoken,  do  we 
say  to  him,  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  "  God  speed !" 

We  repeat  it : — it  is  the  truth  which  he  has  spoken  ;  and  who 
shall  contradict  us  ?  He  has  said  unscrupulously  what  every 
reasonable  man  among  us  has  long  known  to  be  "  as  true  as  the 
Pentateuch  " — that,  as  a  literary  people,  we  are  one  vast  peram- 
bulating humbug.  He  has  asserted  that  we  are  clique-ridden; 
and  who  does  not  smile  at  the  obvious  truism  of  that  assertion  ? 
He  maintains  that  chicanery  is,  with  us,  a  far  surer  road  than 
talent  to  distinction  in  letters.  Who  gainsays  this  ?  The  corrupt 
nature  of  our  ordinary  criticism  has  become  notorious.  It 


THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE.  543 

powers  have  been  prostrated  by  its  own  arm.  The  intercourse 
between  critic  and  publisher,  as  it  now  almost  universally  stands, 
is  comprised  either  in  the  paying  and  pocketing  of  black  mail, 
as  the  price  of  a  simple  forbearance,  or  in  a  direct  system  of  petty 
and  contemptible  bribery,  properly  so  called — a  system  even 
more  injurious  than  the  former  to  the  true  interests  of  the  public, 
and  more  degrading  to  the  buyers  and  sellers  of  good  opinion,  on 
account,  of  the  more  positive  character  of  the  service  here  render- 
ed for  the  consideration  received.  We  laugh  at  the  idea  of  any 
denial  of  our  assertions  upon  this  topic ;  they  are  infamously  true. 
In  the  charge  of  general  corruption,  there  are  undoubtedly  many 
noble  exceptions  to  be  made.  There  are,  indeed,  some  very  few 
editors,  who,  maintaining  an  entire  independence,  will  receive  no 
books  from  publishers  at  all,  or  who  receive  them  with  a  perfect 
understanding,  on  the  part  of  these  latter,  that  an  unbiassed 
critique  will  be  given.  But  these  cases  are  insufficient  to  have 
much  effect  on  the  popular  mistrust :  a  mistrust  heightened  by 
late  exposure  of  the  machinations  of  coteries  in  New  York — 
coteries  which,  at  the  bidding  of  leading  booksellers,  manufacture, 
as  required  from  time  to  time,  a  pseudo-public  opinion  by  whole- 
sale, for  the  benefit  of  any  little  hanger  on  of  the  party,  or  petti- 
fogging protector  of  the  firm. 

We  speak  of  these  things  in  the  bitterness  of  scorn.  It  is  un- 
necessary to  cite  instances,  where  one  is  found  in  almost  every 
issue  of  a  book.  It  is  needless  to  call  to  mind  the  desperate  case 
of  Fay — a  case  where  the  pertinacity  of  the  effort  to  gull — where 
the  obviousness  of  the  attempt  at  forestalling  a  judgment — where 
the  wofully  over-done  be-Mirrorment  of  that  man-of-straw,  to- 
gether with  the  pitiable  platitude  of  his  production,  proved  a  dose 
somewhat  too  potent  for  even  the  well-prepared  stomach  of  the 
mob.  We  say  it  is  supererogatory  to  dwell  upon  "Norman 
Leslie,"  or  other  by-gone  follies,  when  we  have,  before  our  eyes, 
hourly  instances  of  the  machinations  in  question.  To  so  great 
an  extent  of  methodical  assurance  has  the  system  of  puffery 
arrived,  that  publishers,  of  late,  have  made  no  scruple  of  keeping 
on  hand  an  assortment  of  commendatory  notices,  prepared  by 
their  men  of  all  work,  and  of  sending  these  notices  around  to  the 
multitudinous  papers  within  t.heir  influence,  done  up  within  the 


544  THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE. 

fly-leaves  of  the  book.  The  grossness  of  these  base  attempts, 
however,  has  not  escaped  indignant  rebuke  from  the  more  ho- 
norable portion  of  the  press;  and  we  hail  these  symptoms  of 
restiveness  under  the  yoke  of  unprincipled  ignorance  and 
quackery  (strong  only  in  combination)  as  the  harbinger  of  a 
better  era  for  the  interests  of  real  merit,  and  of  the  national 
literature  as  a  whole. 

It  has  become,  indeed,  the  plain  duty  of  each  individual 
connected  with  our  periodicals,  heartily  to  give  whatever  in- 
fluence he  possesses,  to  the  good  cause  of  integrity  and  the  truth. 
The  results  thus  attainable  will  be  found  worthy  his  closest 
attention  and  best  efforts.  We  shall,  thus,  frown  down  all 
conspiracies  to  foist  inanity  upon  the  public  consideration  at  the 
obvious  expense  of  every  man  of  talent  who  is  not  a  member  of 
a  clique  in  power.  We  may  even  arrive,  in  time,  at  that 
desirable  point  from  which  a  distinct  view  of  our  men  of  letters 
may  be  obtained,  and  their  respective  pretensions  adjusted,  by 
the  standard  of  a  rigorous  and  self-sustaining  criticism  alone 
That  their  several  positions  are  as  yet  properly  settled  ;  that  the 
posts  which  a  vast  number  of  them  now  hold  are  maintained  by 
any  better  tenure  than  that  of  the  chicanery  upon  which  we  have 
commented,  will  be  asserted  by  none  but  the  ignorant,  or  the 
parties  who  have  best  right  to  feel  an  interest  in  the  "  good  old 
condition  of  things."  No  two  matters  can  be  more  radically  dif- 
ferent than  the  reputation  of  some  of  our  prominent  litterateurs, 
Os  gathered  from  the  mouths  of  the  people,  (who  glean  it  from 
the  paragraphs  of  the  papers,)  and  the  same  reputation  as  deduced 
from  the  private  estimate  of  intelligent  and  educated  men.  We 
do  not  advance  this  fact  as  a  new  discovery.  Its  truth,  on  the. 
contrary,  is  the  subject,  and  has  long  been  so,  of  every-day 
witticism  and  mirth. 

Why  not  ?  Surely  there  can  be  few  things  more  ridiculous 
than  the  general  character  and  assumptions  of  the  ordinary  criti- 
cal notices  of  new  books !  An  editor,  sometimes  without  the 
shadow  of  the  commonest  attainment — often  without  brains, 
always  without  time — does  not  scruple  to  give  the  world  to  un- 
derstand that  he  is  in  the  daily  habit  of  critically  reading  am1 
'leading  upon  a  Hood  of  publications,  one  tenth  f  f  whose  title 


THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE.  545 

pages  he  may  possibly  have  turned  over,  three  fourths  of  whose 
contents  would  be  Hebrew  to  his  most  desperate  efforts  at  com- 
prehension, and  whose  entire  mass  and  amount,  as  might  be 
mathematically  demonstrated,  would  be  sufficient  to  occupy,  in 
the  most  cursory  perusal,  the  attention  of  some  ten  or  twenty 
readers  for  a  month !  What  he  wants  in  plausibility,  however, 
he  makes  up  in  obsequiousness  ;  what  he  lacks  in  time  he  supplies 
in  temper.  He  is  the  most  easily  pleased  man  in  the  world.  He 
admires  everything,  from  the  big  Dictionary  of  Noah  Webster  to 
the  last  diamond  edition  of  Tom  Thumb.  Indeed,  his  sole  diffi- 
culty is  in  finding  tongue  to  express  his  delight.  Every  pamphlet 
is  a  miracle — every  book  in  boards  is  an  epoch  in  letters.  His 
phrases,  therefore,  get  bigger  and  bigger  every  day,  and,  if  it 
were  not  for  talking  Cockney,  we  might  call  him  a  "  regular 
swell." 

Yet,  in  the  attempt  at  getting  definite  information  in  regard  to 
any  one  portion  of  our  literature,  the  merely  general  reader,  or 
the  foreigner,  will  turn  in  vain  from  the  lighter  to  the  heavier 
journals.  But  it  is  not  our  intention  here  to  dwell  upon  the  ra- 
dical, antique,  and  systematized  rigmarole  of  our  Quarterlies. 
The  articles  here  are  anonymous.  Who  writes? — who  causes 
to  be  written?  Who  but  an  ass  will  put  faith  in  tirades  which 
may  be  the  result  of  personal  hostility,  or  in  panegyrics  which 
nine  times  out  of  ten  may  be  laid,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  the 
charge  of  the  author  himself?  It  is  in  the  favor  of  these  sa- 
turnine pamphlets  that  they  contain,  now  and  then,  a  good  essay 
de  omnibus  rebus  et  quibusdam  aliis,  which  may  be  looked  into, 
without  decided  somnolent  consequences,  at  any  period,  not  im- 
mediatly  subsequent  to  dinner.  But  it  is  useless  to  expect  criti- 
cism from  periodicals  called  "  Reviews  "  from  never  reviewing. 
Besides,  all  men  know,  or  should  know,  that  these  books  are  sadly 
riven  to  verbiage.  It  is  a  part  of  their  nature,  a  condition  of 
their  being,  a  point  of  their  faith.  A  veteran  reviewer  loves  the 
safety  of  generalities,  and  is,  therefore,  rarely  particular.  "Words, 
words,  words,"  are  the  secret  of  his  strength.  He  has  one  or 
two  ideas  of  his  own,  and  is  both  wary  and  fussy  in  giving  them 
,iut.  His  wit  lies  with  his  truth,  in  a  well,  and  there  is  always  a 
vorld  of  trouble  in  getting  it  up.  He  is  a  sworn  enemy  to  alJ 


546  THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE. 

things  simple  and  direct.  He  gives  no  ear  to  the  advice  of  the 
giant  Moulineau — "  Belier,  mon  ami,  commencez  au  commence- 
ment." He  either  jumps  at  once  into  the  middle  of  his  subject, 
or  breaks  in  at  a  back  door,  or  sidles  up  to  it  with  the  gait  of  crab. 
No  other  mode  of  approach  has  an  air  of  sufficient  profundity. 
When  fairly  into  it,  however,  he  becomes  dazzled  with  the 
scintillation?  of  his  own  wisdom,  and  is  seldom  able  to  see  his 
way  out.  Tired  of  laughing  at  his  antics,  or  frightened  at  seeing 
him  flounder,  the  reader,  at  length,  shuts  him  up,  with  the  book. 
"  What  song  the  Syrens  sang,"  says  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  '  or 
what  name  Achilles  assumed  when  he  hid  himself  among  women, 
though  puzzling  questions,  are  not  beyond  all  conjecture  ;" — but  it 
would  puzzle  Sir  Thomas,  backed  by  Achilles  and  all  the  Syrens 
in  Heathendom,  to  say,  in  nine  cases-  out  of  ten,  what  is  the  object 
of  a  thorough-going  Quarterly  Reviewer. 

Should  the  opinions  promulgated  by  our  press  at  large  be 
taken,  in  their  wonderful  aggregate,  as  an  evidence  of  what  Ame- 
rican literature  absolutely  is,  (and  it  may  be  said  that,  in  gene- 
ral, they  are  really  so  taken,)  we  shall  find  ourselves  the  most 
enviable  set  of  people  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  Our  fine  writers 
are  legion.  Our  very  atmosphere  is  redolent  of  genius ;  and  we,  the 
nation,  are  a  huge,  well-co"ntented  chameleon,  grown  pursy  by 
inhaling  it.  We  are  teretes  et  rotundi — enwrapped  in  excellence. 
All  our  poets  are  Miltons,  neither  mute  nor  inglorious  ;  all  our 
poetesses  are  "  American  Hemanses ;"  nor  will  it  do  to  deny 
that  all  our  novelists  are  great  Knowns  or  great  Unknowns,  and 
that  every  body  who  writes,  in  every  possible  and  impossible  de 
partment,  is  the  admirable  Crichton,  or,  at  least,  the  admirable 
Crichton's  ghost.  We  are  thus  in  a  glorious  condition,  and  will 
remain  so  until  forced  to  disgorge  our  ethereal  honors.  In  truth, 
there  is  some  danger  that  the  jealousy  of  the  Old  World  will  in- 
terfere. It  cannot  long  submit  to  that  outrageous  monopoly  of 
"  all  the  decency  and  all  the  talent "  in  which  the  gentlemen  of 
the  press  give  such  undoubted  assurance  of  our  being  so  busily 
engaged. 

But  we  feel  angry  with  ourselves  for  the  jesting  tone  of  our 
observations  upon  this  topic.  The  prevalence  of  the  spirit  of  puf- 
fery is  a  subject  far  less  for  merriment  than  for  disgust.  Its 


THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE.  547 

truckling,  yet  dogmatical  character — its  bold,  unsustained,  yet 
self-sufficient  and  wholesale  laudation — is  becoming,  more  and 
more,  an  insult  to  the  common  sense  of  the  community.  Trivial  as 
it  essentially  is,  it  has,  yet,  been  made  the  instrument  of  the  gioss- 
est  abuse  in  the  elevation  of  imbecility,  to  the  manifest  injury,  to 
the  utter  ruin,  of  true  merit.  Is  there  any  man  of  good  feeling 
and  of  ordinary  understanding — is  there  one  single  individual 
among  all  our  readers — who  does  not  feel  a  thrill  of  -bitter  in- 
dignation, apart  from  any  sentiment  of  mirth,  as  he  calls  to  mind 
instance  after  instance  of  the  purest,  of  -the  most  unadulterated 
quackery  in  letters,  which  has  risen  to  a  high  post  in  the  appa- 
rent popular  estimation,  and  which  still  maintains  it,  by  the  sole 
means  of  a  blustering  arrogance,  or  of  a  busy  wriggling  conceit, 
or  of  the  most  barefaced  plagiarism,  or  even  through  the  simple 
immensity  of  its  assumptions — assumptions  not  only  unopposed 
by  the  press  at  large,  but  absolutely  supported  in  proportion  to 
the  vociferous  clamor  with  which  they  are  made — in  exact  accor- 
dance with  their  utter  baselessness  and  untenability  ?  We  should 
have  no  trouble  in  pointing  out,  to-day,  some  twenty  or  thirty 
so-called  literary  personages,  who,  if  not  idiots,  as  we  half  think 
them,  or  if  not  hardened  to  all  sense  of  shame  by  a  long  course 
of  disingenuousness,  will  now  blush,  in  the  perusal  of  these  words, 
through  consciousness  of  the  shadowy  nature  of  that  purchased 
pedestal  upon  which  they  stand — will  now  tremble  in  thinking  of 
the  feebleness  of  the  breath  Avhich  will  be  adequate  to  the  blow- 
ing it  from  beneath  their  feet.  With  the  help,  of  a  hearty  good 
will,  even  we  may  yet  tumble  them  down. 

So  firm,  through  a  long  endurance,  has  been  the  hold  taken 
upon  the  popular  mind  (at  least  so  far  as  we  may  consider  the 
popular  mind  reflected  in  ephemeral  letters)  by  the  laudatory 
system  which  we  have  deprecated,  that  what  is,  in  its  own 
essence,  a  vice,  has  become  endowed  with  the  appearance,  and 
met  with  the  reception  of  a  virtue.  Antiquity,  as  usual,  has  lent 
a  certain  degree  of  speciousness  even  to  the  absurd.  So  conti* 
nuously  have  we  puffed,  that  we  have,  at  length,  come  to  think 
puffing  the  duty,  and  plain  speaking  the  dereliction.  What  we 
began  in  gross  error,  we  persist  in  through  habit.  Having 
adopted,  in  the  earlier  days  of  our  literature,  the  untenable  idea 


548  THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICOM— A  SATIRE.      . 

that  this  literature,  as  a  whole,  could  be  advanced  by  an  indiscri- 
minate approbation  bestowed  on  its  every  effort — having  adopted 
this  idea,  we  say,  without  attention  to  the  obvious  fact  that  praise 
of  all  was  bitter  although  negative  censure  to  the  few  alone 
deserving,  and  that  the  only  result  of  the  system,  in  the  fostering 
way,  would  be  the  fostering  of  folly — we  now  continue  our  vile 
practices  through  the  supineness  of  custom,  even  while,  in 'our 
national  self-conceit,  we  repudiate  that  necessity  for  patronage 
and  protection  in  which  originated  our  conduct.  In  a  word,  the 
press,  throughout  the  country,  has  not  been  ashamed  to  make  head 
against  the  very  few  bold  attempts  at  independence  which  have, 
from  time  to  time,  been  made  in  the  face  of  the  reigning  order 
of  things.  And  if,  in  one,  or  perhaps  two,  insulated  cases,  the 
spirit  of  severe  truth,  sustained  by  an  unconquerable  will,  wag 
not  to  be  so  put  down,  then,  forthwith,  were  private  chicaneries  set 
in  motion ;  then  was  had  resort,  on  the  part  of  those  who  con- 
sidered themselves  injured  by  the  severity  of  criticism,  (and  who 
were  so,  if  the  just  contempt  of  every  ingenuous  man  is  injury,) 
resort  to  arts  of  the  most  virulent  indignity,  to  untraceable  slan- 
ders, to  ruthless  assassination  in  the  dark.  We  say  these  things 
were  done,  while  the  press  in  general  looked  on,  and,  with  a  full 
understanding  of  the  wrong  perpetrated,  spoke  not  against  the 
wrong.  The  idea  had  absolutely  gone  abroad — had  grown  up 
little  by  little  into  toleration — that  attacks  however  just,  upon  a 
literary  reputation  however  obtained,  however  untenable,  were 
well  retaliated  by  the  basest  and  most  unfounded  traduction  of 
personal  fame.  But  is  this  an  age — is  this  a  day — in  which  it 
can  be  necessary  even  to  advert  to  such  considerations  as  that 
the  book  of  the  author  is  the  property  of  the  public,  and  that  the 
issue  of  the  book  is  the  throwing  down  of  the  gauntlet  to  the 
reviewer — to  the  reviewer  whose  duty  is  the  plainest;  the  duty 
not  even  of  approbation,  or  of  censure,  or  of  silence,  at  his  own 
will,  but  at  the  sway  of  those  sentiments  and  of  those  opinions 
which  are  derived  from  the  author  himself,  through  the.  medium 
of  his  written  and  published  words  ?  True  criticism  is  the  re- 
flection of  the  thing  criticized  upon  the  spirit  of  the  critic. 

But  a  nos  moutons — to  the  "  Quacks  of  Helicon."     This  satire 
has  many  faults  besides  those  upon  which  we  have  commented. 


THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE.  M9 

The  title,  for  example,  is  not  sufficiently  distinctive,  although 
otherwise  good.  It  does  not  confine  the  subject  to  American 
quacks,  while  the  work  does.  The  two  concluding  lines  enfeeble 
instead  of  strengthening  the  Jinale,  which  would  have  been 
exceedingly  pungent  without  them.  The  individual  portions  of 
the  thesis  are  strung  together  too  much  at  random — a  natural 
sequence  is  not  always  preserved — so,  that  although  the  lights  of 
the  picture  are  often  forcible,  the  whole  has  what,  in  artistical 
parlance,  is  termed  an  accidental  and  spotty  appearance.  In 
truth,  the  parts  of  the  poem  have  evidently  been  composed  each 
by  each,  as  separate  themes,  and  afterwards  fitted  into  the 
general  satire,  in  the  best  manner  possible. 

But  a  more  reprehensible  sin  than  any  or  than  all  of  these  is 
yet  to  be  mentioned — the  sin  of  indiscriminate  censure.  Even 
here  Mr.  Wilmer  has  erred  through  imitation.  He  has  held  in 
view  the  sweeping  denunciations  of  the  Dunciad,  and  of  the  later 
(abortive)  satire  of  Byron.  No  one  in  his  senses  can  deny  the 
justice  of  the  general  charges  of  corruption  in  regard  to  which 
we  have  just  spoken  from  the  text  of  our  author.  But  are  there 
no  exceptions  ?  We  should,  indeed,  blush  if  there  were  not. 
And  is  there  no  hope  ?  Time  will  show.  We  cannot  do  eveiy- 
thing  in  a  day — Non  se  gano  Zamora  en  un  ora.  Again,  it  cannot 
be  gainsaid  that  the  greater  number  of  those  who  hold  high 
places  in  our  poetical  literature  are  absolute  nincompoops — 
fellows  alike  innocent  of  reason  and  of  rhyme.  But  neither  are 
we  all  brainless,  nor  is  the  devil  himself  so  black  as  he  is  painted 
Mr.  Wilmer  must  read  the  chapter  in  Rabelais'  Gargantua,  "  de 
ce  qiCest  signifie  par  les  couleurs  blanc  et  bleu" — for  there  is  some 
difference  after  all.  It  will  not  do  in  a  civilized  land  to  run 
a-muck  like  a  Malay.  Mr.  Morris  has  written  good  songs.  Mr. 
Bryant  is  not  all  a  fool.  Mr.  Willis  is  not  quite  an  ass.  Mr. 
Longfellow  will  steal,  but,  perhaps,  he  cannot  help  it,  (for  we 
have  heard  of  such  things,)  and  then  it  must  not  be  denied  that 
nil  tetigit  quod  non  ornavit. 

The  fact  i?  that  our  author,  in  the  rank  exuberance  of  his  zeal, 
seems  to  think  as  little  of  discrimination  as  the  Bishop  of  Autun  * 

*  Talleyrand. 


650  THE  QUACKS  OF  HELICON— A  SATIRE. 

did  of  the  Bible.  Poetical  '*  things  in  general "  are  the  windmills 
at  which  he  spurs  his  Rozinante.  He  as  often  tilts  at  what  is 
true  as  at  what  is  Me ;  and  thus  his  lines  are  like  the  mirrors  of 
the  temples  of  Smyrna,  which  represent  the  fairest  images  as 
deformed.  But  the  talent,  the  fearlessness,  and  especially  the 
design  of  this  book,  will  suffice  to  preserve  it  from  that  dreadful 
damnation  of  "  silent  contempt,"  to  which  editors,  throughout  the 
country,  if  we  are  not  roucb  mistaken,  will  endeavor  one  and  all, 
lo  consign  it- 


ASTORIA. 


MR.  IRVING'S  acquaintance  at  Montreal,  many  years  since, 
with  some  of  the  principal  partners  of  the  great  North- West  Fur 
Company,  was  the  means  of  interesting  him  deeply  in  the  variod 
concerns  of  trappers,  hunters,  and  Indians,  and  in  all  the  adven- 
turous details  connected  with  the  commerce  in  peltries.  Not 
long  after  his  return  from  his  late  tour  to  the  prairies,  he  held  a 
conversation  with  his  friend,  Mr.  John  Jacob  Astor,  of  New 
York,  in  relation  to  an  enterprise  set  on  foot,  and  conducted  by 
that  gentleman,  about  the  year  1812, — an  enterprise  having  for 
its  object  a  participation,  on  the  most  extensive  scale,  in  the  fur 
trade  carried  on  with  the  Indians  in  all  the  western  and  north- 
western regions  of  North  America.  Finding  Mr.  I.  fully  alive 
to  the  exciting  interest  of  this  subject,  Mr.  Astor  was  induced  to 
express  a  regret  that  the  true  nature  and  extent  of  the  enterprise, 
together  with  its  great  national  character  and  importance,  had 
never  been  generally  comprehended ;  and  a  wish  that  Mr.  Irving 
would  undertake  to  give  an  account  of  it.  To  this  he  consented. 
All  the  papers  relative  to  the  matter  were  submitted  to  his  in- 
spection ;  and  the  volumes  now  before  us  (two  well-sized  octavos) 
are  the  result.  The  work  has  been  accomplished  in  a  masterly 
manner — the  modesty  of  the  title  affording  no  indication  of  the 
fulness,  comprehensiveness,  and  beauty,  with  which  a  long  and 
entangled  series  of  detail,  collected  necessarily  from  a  mass  of 

*  "  Astoria  :  or,  Anecdotes  of  an  Enterprize  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains," 
Hy  Washington  Irving. — [From  the  Southern  Literary  Messenger  for  18—  -  j 


552  ASTORIA. 

vague  and  imperfect  data,  has  been  wrought  into  completeness  and 
unity. 

Supposing  our  readers  acquainted  with  the  main  features  of 
the  original  fur  trade  in  America,  we  shall  not  follow  Mr.  Irving 
in  his  vivid  account  of  the  primitive  French  Canadian  Merchant, 
bis  jovial  establishments  and  dependants — of  the  licensed  traders, 
missionaries,  voyageurs,  and  coureurs  des  bois — of  the  British 
Canadian  Fur  Merchant — of  the  rise  of  the  great  Company  of 
the  "  North- West,"  its  constitution  and  internal  trade,  its  par- 
liamentary hall  and  banqueting  room,  its  boating,  its  huntings, 
its  wassailings,  and  other  magnificent  feudal  doings  in  the  wilder- 
ness. It  was  the  British  Mackinaw  Company  we  presume, — 
(a  Company  established  in  rivalry  of  the  "North- West,")  the  scene 
of  whose  main  operations  first  aroused  the  attention  of  our  govern- 
ment. Its  chief  factory  was  established  at  Michilimackinac,  and 
sent  forth  its  perogues,  by  Green  Bay,  Fox  River,  and  the  Wis- 
consin, to  the  Mississippi,  and  thence  to  all  its  tributary  streams 
— in  this  way,  hoping  to  monopolize  the  trade  with  all  the  Indian 
tribes  on  the  southern  and  western  waters  of  our  own  territory, 
as  the  "  North-AVest"  had  monopolized  it  along  the  waters  of  the 
North.  Of  course,  we  now  began  to  view  with  a  jealous  eye, 
and  to  make  exertions  for  counteracting  the.  influence  hourly 
acquired  over  our  own  aborigines  by  these  immense  combinations 
of  foreigners.  In  1796,  the  United  States  sent  out  agents  to 
establish  rival  trading  houses  on  the  frontier,  and  thus,  by  supply- 
ing the  wants  of  the  Indians,  to  link  their  interests  with  ours,  and 
to  divert  the  trade,  if  possible,  into  national  channels.  The 
enterprise  failed — being,  we  suppose,  inefficiently  conducted  and 
supported ;  and  the  design  was  never  afterwards  attempted  until 
by  the  individual  means  and  energy  of  Mr.  Aster. 

John  Jacob  Astor  was  born  in  Waldorf,  a  German  village, 
near  Heidelberg,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  While  yet  a  youth, 
he  foresaw  that  he  would  arrive  at  great  wealth,  and,  leaving 
home,  took  his  way,  alone,  to  London,  where  he  found  himself  at 
the  clo.se  of  the  American  Revolution.  An  elder  brother  being 
in  the  United  States,  he  followed  him  there.  In  January,  1784, 
he  arrived  in  Hampton  Roads,  with  some  little  merchandise 
suited  to  the  American  market.  On  the  passage,  he  had  becomfl 


ASTORIA.  553 

acquainted  with  a  countryman  of  his,  a  furrier,  from  whom  hr> 
derived  much  information  in  regard  to  furs,  and  the  manner  of 
conducting  I  he  trade.  Subsequently,  he  accompanied  this  gentle- 
man to  New  York,  and,  by  his  advice,  invested  the  proceeds  of 
his  merchandise  in  peltries.  With  these,  he  sailed  to  London, 
and,  having  disposed  of  his  adventure  advantageously,  he  re- 
turned the  same  year  (1784)  to  New  York,  with  a  view  of 
settling  in  the  United  States,  and  prosecuting  the  business  thus 
commenced.  Mr.  Aster's  beginnings  in  this  way  were  necessarily 
small — but  his  perseverance  was  indomitable,  his  integrity  un- 
impeachable, and  his  economy  of  the  most  rigid  kind.  li  To 
these,"  says  Mr.  Irving,  "  were  added  an  aspiring  spirit,  that  al- 
ways looked  upward;  a  genius  bold,  fertile,  and  expansive;  a 
sagacity  quick  to  grasp  and  convert  every  circumstance  to  its 
advantage,  and  a  singular  and  never  wavering  confidence  of 
Eignal  success."  These  opinions  are  more  than  re-echoed  by  the 
whole  crowd  of  Mr.  Astor's  numerous  acquaintances  and  friends, 
and  are  most  strongly  insisted  upon  by  those  who  have  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  him  best. 

In  the  United  States,  the  fur  trade  was  not  yet  sufficiently  or- 
ganized to  form  a  regular  line  of  business.  Mr.  A.  made  annual 
visits  to  Montreal  for  the  purpose  of  buying  peltries  ;  and,  as  no 
direct  trade  was  permitted  from  Canada  to  any  country  but 
England,  he  shipped  them,  when  bought,  immediately  to  London. 
This  difficulty  being  removed,  however,  by  the  treaty  of  171)5, 
he  made  a  contract  for  furs  with  the  North-West  Company,  and 
imported  them  from  Montreal  into  the  United  States — -thence, 
shipping  a  portion  to  different  parts  of  Europe,  as  well  as  to  the 
principal  market  in  China. 

By  the  treaty  just  spoken  of,  the  British  possessions  on  our 
side  of  the  Lakes  were  given  up,  and  an  opening  made  for  the 
American  fur-trader  on  the  confines  of  Canada,  and  within  the 
territories  of  the  United  States.  Here,  Mr.  Astor,  about  the 
year  1807,  adventured  largely  on  his  own  account;  his  increased 
capital  now  placing  him  among  the  chief  of  American  merchants 
The  influence  of  the  Mackinaw  Company,  however,  proved  toe 
much  for  him,  and  he  was  induced  to  consider  the  means  of 
entering  into  successful  competition.  He  was  aware  of  the  wish 


554  ASTORIA. 

of  the  Government  to  concentrate  the  fur-trade  within  its  boun- 
daries in  the  hands  of  its  own  citizens;  and  he  now  offered,  if 
national  aid  or  protection  should  be  afforded,  "  to  turn  the  whole 
of  the  trade  into  American  channels."  He  was  invited  to  unfold 
his  plans,  and  they  were  warmly  approved,  but,  we  believe,  little 
more.  The  countenance  of  the  Government  was,  nevertheless, 
of  much  importance,  and,  in  1809,  he  procured,  from  the  legis- 
lature of  New  York,  a  charter,  incorporating  a  company,  under 
the  name  of  the  "  American  Fur  Company,"  with  a  capital  of 
one  million  of  dollars,  and  the  privilege  of  increasing  it  to  two 
He  himself  constituted  the  Company,  and  furnished  the  capital. 
The  board  of  directors  was  merely  nominal,  and  the  whole 
business  was  conducted  with  his  own  resources,  and  according  to 
his  own  will. 

We  here  pass  over  Mr.  Irving's  lucid,  although  brief  account 
of  the  fur-trade  in  the  Pacific,  of  Russian  and  American  enter- 
prise on  the  North-western  coast,  and  of  the  discovery  by  Captain 
Gray,  in  1792,  of  the  mouth  of  the  river  Columbia.  lie  proceeds 
to  speak  of  Captain  Jonathan  Carver,  of  the  British  provincial 
army.  In  17 60,  shortly  after  the  acquisition  of  the  Canadas  by 
Great  Britain,  this  gentleman  projected  a  journey  across  the 
continent,  between  the  forty-third  and  forty-sixth  degrees  of 
northern  latitude,  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific.  His  objects  were 
"  to  ascertain  the  breadth  of  the  continent  at  its  broadest  part, 
and  to  determine  on  some  place  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific, 
where  Government  might  establish  a  post  to  facilitate  the  dis- 
covery of  a  North-west  passage,  or  a  communication  between 
Hudson's  Bay  and  the  Pacific  Ocean."  He  failed  twice  in  indi- 
vidual attempts  to  accomplish  this  journey.  In  1774,  Richard 
"Whitworth,  a  member  of  Parliament,  came  into  this  scheme  of 
Captain  Carver's.  These  two  gentlemen  determined  to  take 
with  them  fifty  or  sixty  men,  artificers  and  mariners,  to  proceed 
up  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Missouri,  find  the  source  of  the 
Oregon,  (the  Columbia,)  and  sail  down  the  river  to  its  mouth. 
Here,  a  fort  was  to  be  erected,  and  the  vessels  built  necessary  to 
rarry  into  execution  their  purposed  discoveries  by  sea.  The 
British  Government  sanctioned  the  plan,  and  everything  was 


ASTORIA.  5.->o 

ready  tor  the  undertaking,  when  the  American  Revolution  pre- 
vented it. 

The  expedition  of  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie  is  well  known. 
In  1703,  he  crossed  the  continent,  and  reached  the  Pacific  Ocessn 
in  latitude  52°  20'  48".  In  latitude  52°  30',  he  partially  descend- 
ed a  river  flowing  to  the  South,  and  which  he  erroneously  sup- 
posed to  be  the  Columbia.  Some  years  afterwards,  he  published 
an  account  of  his  journey,  and  suggested  the  policy  of  opening 
an  intercourse  between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans,  and 
forming  regular  establishments  'k  through  the  interior  and  at  both 
extremes,  as  well  as  along  the  coasts  and  islands."  Thus,  he 
thought  the  entire  command  of  the  fur  trade  of  North  America 
might  be  obtained  from  latitude  48°  north  to  the  pole,  excepting 
that  portion  held  by  the  Russians.  As  to  the  "  American  ad- 
venturers" along  the  coast,  he  spoke  of  them  as  entitled  to  but 
little  consideration.  "  They  would  instantly  disappear,"  he  said, 
"  before  a  well  regulated  trade."  Owing  to  the  jealousy  existing 
between  the  Hudson's  Bay  and  North-west  Company,  this  idea 
of  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie's  was  never  carried  into  execution. 

The  successful  attempt  of  Messieurs  Lewis  and  Clarke  was 
accomplished,  it  will  be  remembered,  in  1804.  Their  course  was 
that  proposed  by  Captain  Carver  in  1774.  They  passed  up  the 
Missouri  to  its  head  waters,  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
discovered  the  source  of  the  Columbia,  and  followed  that  river 
down  to  its  mouth.  Here  they  spent  the  winter,  and  retraced 
their  steps  in  the  spring.  Their  reports  declared  it  practicable 
to  establish  a  line  of  communication  across  the  continent,  and 
first  inspired  Mr.  Astor  with  the  design  of  "  grasping  with  his 
individual  hands  this  great  enterprise,  which,  for  years,  had  been 
dubiously,  yet  desirously  contemplated  by  powerful  associatioi.s 
and  maternal  governments." 

His  scheme  was  gradually  matured.  Its  main  features  were 
as  follows.  A  line  of  trading  posts  was  to  be  established  along 
the  Missouri  and  Columbia,  to  the  mouth  of  the  latter,  where 
was  to  be  founded  the  chief  mart.  On  all  the  tributary  streams 
throughout  this  immense  route  were  to  be  situated  inferior  posts 
trading  directly  with  the  Indians  for  their  peltries.  All  these 
posts  would  draw  upon  the  mart  at  the  Columbia  for  their 


556  ASTORIA. 

supplies  of  goods,  and  would  send  thither  the  furs  collected.  At 
this  latter  place  also,  were  to  be  built  and  fitted  out  coasting  vcs- 
self,  for  the  purpose  of  trading  along  the  North-west  coast,  re- 
turning with  the  proceeds  of  their  voyages  to  the  same  general 
rendezvous.  In  this  manner,  the  whole  Indian  trade,  both  of  the 
coast  and  the  interior,  would  converge  to  one  point.  To  this 
point,  in  continuation  of  his  plan,  Mr.  Astor  proposed  to  despatch, 
every  year,  a  ship  with  the  necessary  supplies.  She  would 
receive  the  peltries  collected,  carry  them  to  Canton,  there  invest 
the  proceeds  in  merchandise,  and  return  to  New  York. 

Another  point  was  also  to  be  attended  to.  In  coasting  to  the 
North-west,  the  ship  would  be  brought  into  contact  with  the 
Russian  Fur  Company's  establishments  in  that  quarter;  and,  as  a 
rivalry  might  ensue,  it  was  politic  to  conciliate  the  good  will  of 
that  body.  It  depended  chiefly,  for  its  supplies,  upon  transient 
trading  vessels  from  the  United  States.  The  owners  of  these 
vessels,  having  nothing  beyond  their  individual  interests  to  con- 
sult, made  no  scruple  of  furnishing  the  natives  with  fire  arms, 
and  were  thus  productive  of  much  injury.  To  this  effect,  the 
Russian  government  had  remonstrated  with  the  United  States, 
urging  to  have  the  traffic  in  arms  prohibited — but.  no  municipal 
law  being  infringed,  our  government  could  not  interfere.  Still, 
it  was  anxious  not  to  offend  Russia,  and  applied  to  Mr.  Astor  for 
information  as  to  the  means  of  remedying  the  evil,  knowing  him 
to  be  well  versed  in  all  frhe  concerns  of  the  trade  in  question. 
This  application  suggested  to  him  the  idea  of  paying  a  regular 
visit  to  the  Russian  settlements  with  his  annual  ship.  Thus, 
being  kept  regularly  in  supplies,  they  would  be  independent  of" 
the  casual  traders,  who  would,  consequently,  be  excluded  from 
the  coast.  This  whole  scheme,  Mr.  Astor  communicated  to 
President  Jefferson,  soliciting  the  countenance  of  Government. 
The  cabinet  "joined  in  warm  approbation  of  the.  plan,  and  held 
out  assurance  of  every  protection  that  could,  consistently  with 
general  policy,  be  afforded." 

In  speaking  of  the  motives  which  actuated  Mr.  Astor  in  an 
enterprise  so  extensive,  Mr.  Irving,  we  are  willing  to  believe, 
ba?  done  that  high-minded  gentleman  no  more  that  the  simplest 
species  of  justice.  "  He  was  already,"  says  our  author,  "  wealthy 


ASTORIA.  557 

beyond  the  ordinary  desires  of  man,  but  he  now  aspired  lo  that 
honorable  fame  which  is  awarded  to  men  of  similar  scope  of 
mind,  who,  by  their  great  commercial  enterprises,  have  enriched 
nations,  peopled  wildernesses,  and  extended  the  bounds  of  empire. 
He  considered  his  projected  establishment  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Columbia,  as  the  emporium  to  an  immense  commerce;  as  a 
colony  that  would  form  the  germ  of  a  wide  civilization  ;  that 
would,  in  fact,  carry  the  American  population  across  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  spread  it  along  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  as  it 
already  animated  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic." 

A  few  words  in  relation  to  the  North-west  company.  This 
body,  following  out  in  part  the  suggestion  of  Sir  Alexander  Mac- 
kenzie, had  already  established  a  few  trading  posts  on  the  coast 
of  the  Pacific,  in  a  region  lying  about  two  degrees  north  of  the 
Columbia — thus  throwing  itself  between  the  Russian  and  Ameri- 
can territories.  They  would  contend  with  Mr.  Astor  at  an  im- 
mense disadvantage,  of  course.  They  had  no  good  post  for  the 
receipt  of  supplies  by  sea ;  and  must  get  them  with  great  risk, 
trouble  and  expense,  over  land.  Their  peltries  also  would  have 
to  be  taken  home  the  same  way — for  they  were  not  at  liberty  to 
interfere  with  the  East  India  company's  monopoly,  by  shipping 
thorn  directly  to  China.  Mr.  Astor  would  therefore  greatly  un- 
dersell them  in  that,  the  principal  market.  Still,  as  any  compe- 
tition would  prove  detrimental  to  both  parties,  Mr.  A.  made 
known  his  plans  to  the  North-west  company,  proposing  to  inter- 
est them  one-third  in  his  undertaking.  The  British  company, 
however,  had  several  reasons  for  declining  the  proposition — not 
the  least  forcible  of  which  we  presume,  was  their  secret  intention 
to  push  on  a  party  forthwith,  and  forestall  their  .rival  in  estab- 
lishing a  settlement  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia. 

In  the  meantime  Mr..Astor  did  not  remain  idle.  His  first  care 
was  to  procure  proper  coadjutors,  and  he  was  induced  to  seek 
them  principally  from  among  such  clerks  of  the  North-west  com- 
pany, as  were  dissatisfied  with  their  situation  iu  that  body — hav- 
ing served  out  their  probationary  term,  and  being  still,  through 
want  of  influence,  without  a  prospect  of  speedy  promotion.  From 
among  these  (generally  men  "of  capacity  and  experience  i::  theif 
particular  business).  Mr.  A.  obtained  the  services  of  Mr.  Alex- 


5o8  ASTORIA. 

ander  M'Kay  (who  Lad  accompanied  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie 
in  both  of  his  expeditions).  Mr.  Donald  M'Kcnzie,  and  Mr. 
Duncan  M'Dougal.  Mr.  Wilson  Price  Hunt,  a  native  citizen 
of  .New  Jersey,  and  a  gentleman  of  great  worth,  was  afterwards 
selected  by  Mr.  Astor  as  his  chief  agent,  and  as  the  representa- 
tive of  himself  at  the  contemplated  establishment.  In  June, 
1810,  "articles  of  agreement  were  entered  into  between  Mr. 
Astor  and  these  four  gentlemen,  acting  for  themselves,  and  for 
the  several  persons  who  had  already  agreed  to  become,  or  should 
thereafter  become,  associated  under  the  firm  of  "  The  Pacific 
Fur  Company"  This  agreement  stipulated  that  Mr.  A.  was  to 
be  the  head  of  the  company,  to  manage  its  affairs  at  New  York, 
and  to  furnish  every  thing  requisite  for  the  enterprise  at  first 
cost  and  charges,  provided  an  advance  of  more  than  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars  should  not  at  any  time  be  involved.  The  stock 
was  to  consist  of  a  hundred  shares,  Mr.  Astor  taking  fifty,  the 
rest  being  divided  among  the  other  partners  and  their  associates. 
A  general  meeting  was  to  be  held  annually  at  Columbia  river, 
where  absent  members  might  vote  by  proxy.  The  association 
was  to  continue  twenty  years — but  might  be  dissolved  within  the 
first  five  years,  if  found  unprofitable.  For  these  five  years  Mr. 
A.  agreed  to  bear  all  the  loss  that  might  be  incurred.  An  agent, 
appointed  for  a  like  term,  was  to  reside  at  the  main  establishment, 
and  Mr.  Hunt  was  the  person  first  selected. 

Mr.  Astor  determined  to  begin  his  enterprise  with  two  expe- 
ditions— one  by  sea,  the  other  by  land.  The  former  was  to  carry 
out  every  thing  necessary  for  the  establishment  of  a  fortified  post 
Mt  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia.  The  latter,  under  the  conduct 
of  Mr.  Hunt,  was  to  proceed  up  the  Missouri  and  across  the 
Uocky  Mountains  to  the  same  point.  In  the  course  of  this  over- 
land journey,  the  most  practicable  line  pf  communication  would 
be  explored,  and  the  best  situations  noted  for  the  location  of 
trading  rendezvous.  Following  Mr.  Irving  in  our  brief  summary 
of  his  narrative,  we  will  now  give  some  account  of  the  first  of 
ihese  expeditions. 

A  ship  was  provided  called  the  Tonquin,  of  two  hundred  and 
ninety  tons,  with  ten  guns,  and  twenty  men.  Lieutenant  Jona- 
than Thorn  of  the  United  States  navy,  being  on  leave  of  absence 


ASTORIA  559 

received  the  command.  He  was  a  man  of  courage,  and  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  in  the  Tripolitan  war.  Four  of  the  partners 
went  in  the  ship — M'Kay  and  M'Dougal,  of  whom  we  have 
already  spoken,  and  Messieurs  David  and  Robert  Stuart,  new 
associates  in  the  firm.  M'Dougal  was  empowered  to  act  as  the 
proxy  of  Mr.  Astor  in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Hunt.  Twelve  clerks 
were  also  of  the  party.  These  were  bound  to  the  service  of  the 
company  for  five  years,  and  were  to  receive  one  hundred  dollars 
a  year,  payable  at  the  expiration  of  the  term,  with  an  annual 
equipment  of  clothing  to  the  amount  of  forty  dollars.  By  prom- 
ises of  future  promotion,  their  interests  were  identified  with  those 
of  Mr.  Astor.  Thirteen  Canadian  voyageurs,  and  several  arti- 
sans, completed  the  ship's  company.  On  the  8th  of  September, 
1810,  the  Tonquin  put  to  sea.  Of  her  voyage  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Columbia,  Mr.  Irving  has  given  a  somewhat  ludicrous  ac- 
count. Thorn,  the  stern,  straight-forward  officer  of  the  navy, 
having  few  ideas  beyond  those  of  duty  and  discipline,  and  looking 
with  supreme  contempt  upon  the  motley  "  lubbers"  who  formed 
the  greater  part  of  his  company,  is  painted  with  the  easy  yet 
spirited  pencil  of  an  artist  indeed ;  while  M'Dougal,  the  shrewd 
Scotch  partner,  bustling,  yet  pompous,  and  impressed  with  lofty 
notions  of  his  own  importance  as  proxy  for  Mr.  Astor,  is  made 
as  supremely  ridiculous  as  possible,  with  as  little  apparent  effort 
as  can  well  be  imagined ; — the  portraits,  however,  carry  upon 
their  faces  the  evidence  of  their  own  authenticity.  The  voyage 
is  prosecuted  amid  a  series  of  petty  quarrels,  and  cross  purposes, 
between  the  captain  and  his  crew,  and,  occasionally,  between  Mr. 
M'Kay  and  Mr.  M'Dougal.-  The  contests  between  the  two  latter 
gentlemen  were  brief,  it  appears,  although  violent.  "  "Within 
fifteen  minutes,"  says  Captain  Thorn  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Astor, 
"  they  would  be  caressing  each  other  like  children."  The  Ton- 
quin doubled  Cape  Horn  on  Christmas  day,  arrived  at  Owhyhee 
on  the  eleventh  of  February,  took  on  board  fresh  provisions, 
sailed  again  with  twelve  Sandwich  islanders  on  the  28th,  and  on 
the  22d  of  March  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia.  In 
seeking  a  passage  across  the  bar,  a  boat  and  nine  men  were  lost 
among  the  breakers.  On  the  way  from  Owhyhee  a  violent 
storm  occurred ;  and  the  bickerings  still  continued  between  the 


560  ASTORIA. 

partners  and  the  captain — the  latter,  indeed,  grievously  suspect- 
ing the  former  of  a  design  to  depose  him. 

The  Columbia,  for  about  forty  miles  from  its  mouth,  is,  strictly 
speaking,  an  estuary,  varying  in  breadth  from  three  to  seven 
miles,  and  indented  by  deep  bays.  Shoals  and  other  obstructions 
render  the  navigation  dangerous.  Leaving  this  broad  portion 
of  the  stream  in  the  progress  upwards,  we  find  the  mouth  of  the 
river  proper — which  is  about  half  a  mile  wide.  The  entrance 
to  the  estuary  from  sea  is  bounded  on  the  south  by  a  long,  low, 
and  sandy  beach  stretching  into  the  ocean,  and  called  Point 
Adams.  On  the  northern  side  of  the  frith  is  Cape  Disappoint- 
ment, a  steep  promontory.  Immediately  east  of  this  cape  is 
Baker's  Bay,  and  within  this  the  Tonquin  came  to  anchor. 

Jealousies  still  continued  between  the  captain  and  the  worthy 
M'Dougal,  who  could  come  to  no  agreement  in  regard  to  the 
proper  location  for  the  contemplated  establishment.  On  April 
the  fifth,  without  troubling  himself  farther  with  the  opinions  of 
his  coadjutors,  Mr.  Thorn  landed  in  Baker's  Bay,  and  began 
operations.  At  this  summary  proceeding,  the  partners  were,  of 
course,  in  high  dudgeon,  and  an  open  quarrel  seemed  likely  to 
ensue,  to  the  serious  detriment  of  the  enterprise.  These  difficul- 
ties, however,  were  at  length  arranged,  and  finally  on  the  12lh 
of  April,  a  settlement  was  commenced  at  a  point  of  land  called 
Point  George,  on  the  southern  shore  of  the  frith.  Here  was  a 
good  harbor,  where  vessels  of  two  hundred  tons  might  anchor 
within  fifty  yards  of  the  shore.  In  honor  of  the  chief  parkier, 
the  new  post  received  the  title  of  Astoria.  After  much  delay, 
fhe  portion  of  the  cargo  destined  for  the  post  was  landed,  and  the 
Tonquin  left  free  to  proceed  on  her  voyage.  She  was  to  coast 
to  the  north,  to  trade  for  peltries  at  the  different  harbors,  and  to 
touch  at  Astoria  on  her  return  in  the  autumn.  Mr.  M'Kay  went 
in  her  as  supercargo,  and  a  Mr.  Lewis  as  ship's  clerk.  On  the 
morning  of  the  5th  of  June  she  stood  out  to  sea,  the  whole  num- 
ber of  persons  on  board  amounting  to  three  and  twenty.  In  one 
of  the  outer  bays  Captain  Thorn  procured  the  services  of  an  In- 
dian named  Lamazee,  who  had  already  made  two  voyages  along 
the  coast,  and  who  agreed  to  accompany  him  as  interpreter.  In 
a  few  days  the  ship  arrived  at  Vancouver's  Island,  and  came  to 


ASTORIA.  561 

anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Neweetee,  much  against  the  advice  of 
(he  Indian,  who  warned  Captain  Thorn  of  the  perfidious  charac- 
ter of  the  natives.  The  result  was  the  merciless  butchery  of  the 
whole  crew,  with  the  exception  of  the  interpreter  and  Mr.  Lewis, 
the  ship's  clerk.  The  latter,  finding  himself  mortally  wounded 
and  without  companions,  blew  up  the  ship  and  perished  with 
more  than  a  hundred  of  the  enemy.  Lamazee,  getting  among 
the  Indians,  escaped,  and  was  the  means  of  bearing  the  news  of 
the  disaster  to  Astoria.  In  relating  at  length  the  thrilling  details 
of  this  catastrophe,  Mr.  Irving  takes  occasion  to  comment  on  the 
headstrong,  although  brave  and  strictly  honorable  character  of 
Lieutenant  Thorn.  The  danger  and  folly,  on  the  part  of  agents,  • 
in  disobeying  the  matured  instructions  of  those  who  deliberately 
plan  extensive  enterprises,  such  as  that  of  Mr.  Astor,  is  also 
justly  and  forcibly  shown.  The  misfortune  here  spoken  of,  arose, 
altogether,  from  a  disregard  of  Mr.  A.'s  often  repeated  advice — 
to  admit  but  few  Indians  en  board  the  Tonquin  at  one  time. 
Her  loss  was  a  serious  blow  to  the  infant  establishment  at  As- 

* 

toria.     To  this  post  let  us  now  return. 

The  natives  inhabiting  the'borders  of  the  estuary  were  divided 
into  four  tribes,  of  which  the  Chinooks  were  the  principal. 
Comcomly,  a  one-eyed  Indian,  was  their  chief.  Theee  tribes 
resembled  each  other  in  nearly  •  every  respect,  and  were,  no 
doubt,  of  a  common  stock.  They  live  chiefly  by  fishing — the 
Columbia  and  its  tributary  streams  .abounding  in  fine  salmon, 
and  a  variety  of  other  fish.  A  trade  in  peltries,  but  to  no  great 
amount,  was  immediately  commenced  and  carried  on.  Much 
disquiet  was  occasioned  at  the  post  by  a  rumor  among  the  In- 
dians that  thirty  white  men  had  appeared  on  the  banks  of  the 
Columbia,  and  were  building  houses  at  the  second  rapids.  It 
was  feared  that  these  were  an  advance  party  of  the  North-west 
company  endeavoring  to  seize  upon  the  upper  parts  of  the  river, 
and  thus  forestall  Mr.  Astor  in  the  trade  of  the  surrounding 
country.  Bloody  feuds  in  this  case  might  be  anticipated,  such 
as  had  prevailed  between  rival  companies  in  former  times.  The 
intelligence  of  the  Indians  proved  true — the  "  North-west"  had 
erected  a  trading  house  on  the  Spokan  river,  which  falls  into  the 
north  branch  of  the  Columbia.  The  Astorians  could  do  little  to 


563  ASTORIA. 

oppose  them  in  their  present  reduced  state  as  to  numbers.  If 
was  resolved,  however,  to  advance  a  counter-check  to  the  post 
on  the  Spokan,  and  Mr.  David  Stuart  prepared  to  set  out  for 
this  purpose  with  eight  men  and  a  small  assortment  of  goods, 
On  the  fifteenth  of  July,  when  this  expedition  was  about  starling, 
a  canoe,  manned  with  nine  white  men,  and  bearing  the  British 
flag,  entered  the  harbor.  They  proved  to  be  the  party  dispatched 
by  the  rival  company  to  anticipate  Mr.  Astor  in  the  settlement 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  Mr.  D-avid  Thompson, 'their  leader, 
announced  himself  as  a  partner  of  the  "North-west" — but  other- 
wise gave  a  very  peaceable  account  of  himself.  It  appears,  how- 
ever, from  information  subsequently  derived  from  other  sources, 
that  he  had  hurried  with  a  desperate  haste  across  the  mountains, 
calling  at  all  the  Indian  villages  in  his  march,  presenting  them 
with  British  flags,  and  "  proclaiming  formally  that  he  took  pos- 
session of  the  country  for  the  North-west  company,  and  in  the 
name  of  the  king  of  Great  Britain."  His  plan  was  defeated,  it 
seems,  by  the  desertion  of  a  great  portion  of  his  followers,  and  it 
was  thought  probable  that  he  now  merely  descended  the  river 
with  a  view  of  reconnoitering.  M'Dougal  treated  the  gentlemen 
with  great  kindness,  and  supplied  them  with  goods  and  provisions 
for  their  journey  back  across  the  mountains — this  much  against 
the  wishes  of  Mr.  David  Stuart,  "  who  did  not  think  the  object 
of  their  visit  entitled  them  to  any  favor."  A  letter  for  Mr. 
Astor  was  entrusted  to  Thompson. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  July,  the  party  for  the  region  of  the 
Spokan  set  out,  and  after  a  voyage  of  much  interest,  succeeded 
in  establishing  the  first  interior  trading  post  of  the  company.  It 
was  situated  on  a  point  of  land  about  three  miles  long  and  two 
broad,  formed  by  the  junction  of  the  Oakinagan  with  the  Colum- 
bia. In  the  meantime  the  Indians  near  Astoria  began  to  evince 
a  hostile  disposition,  and  a  reason  for  this  altered  demeanor  was 
soon  after  found  in  the  report  of  the  loss  of  the  Tonquin.  Early 
in  August  the  settlers  received  intelligence  of  her  fate.  They 
now  found  themselves  in  a  perilous  situation,  a  mere  handful  of 
men,  on  a  savage  coast,  and  surrounded  by  barbarous  enemies. 
From  their  dilemma  they  were  relieved,  for  the  present,  by  the 
ingenuity  of  M'Dougal.  The  natives  had  a  great  dread  of  the 


ASTORIA.  563 

email-pox,  which  had  appeared  among  them  a  few  years  before, 
sweeping  off  entire  tribes.  They  believed  it  an  evil  either  in- 
flicted  upon  them  by  the  Great  Spirit,  or  brought  among  mem 
by  the  white  men.  Seizing  upon  this  latter  idea,  M'Dougal  as- 
sembled several  of  the  chieftains  whom  he  believed  to  be  inimi- 
cal, and  informing  them  that  he  had  heard  of  the  treachery  of 
their  northern  brethren  in  regard  to  the  Tonquin,  produced  from 
his  pocket  a  small  bottle.  "  The  white  men  among  you,"  said 
he,  "are  few  in  number,  it  is  true,  but  they  are  mighty  in  medi- 
cine. See  here !  In  this  bottle  I  hold  the  small-pox  safely 
corked  up ;  I  have  but  to  draw  the  cork  and  let  loose  the  pesti- 
lence, to  sweep  man,  woman  and  child  from  the  face  of  the 
earth !"  The  chiefs  were  dismayed.  They  represented  to  the 
•'  Great  Small- Pox  Chief"  that  they  were  the  firmest  friends  of 
the  white  men,  that  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  villains  who 
murdered  the  crew  of  the  Tonquin,  and  that  it  would  be  unjust, 
in  uncorking  the  bottle,  to  destroy  the  innocent  with  the  guilty. 
M'Dougal  was  convinced.  He  promised  not  to  uncork  it  until 
some  overt  act  should  compel  him  to  do  so.  In  this  manner 
tranquillity  was  restored  to  the  settlement.  A  large  house  was 
now  built,  and  the  frame  of  a  schooner  put  together.  She  was 
named  the  Dolly,  and  was  the  first  American  vessel  launched  on 
the  coa?t.  But  our  limits  will  not  permit  us  to  follow  too  mi- 
nutely the  details  of  the  enterprise.  The  adventurers  kept  up 
their  spirits,  sending  out  occasional  foraging  parties  in  the  Dolly, 
and  looking  forward  to  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Hunt.  So  wore  away 
the  year  1811  at  the  little  post  of  Astoria.  We  now  come  to 
speak  of  the  expedition  by  land. 

This,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  to  be  conducted  by  Mr.  Wil- 
ecn  Price  Hunt,  a  native  of  New  Jersey.  He  is  represented  as 
scrupulously  upright,  of  amiable  disposition,  and  agreeable  man- 
ners. He  had  never  been  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness,  but, 
having  been  for  some  time  engaged  in  commerce  at  St.  Loui-:. 
furnishing  Indian  traders  with  goods,  he  had  acquired  much 
knowledge  of  the  trade  at  second  hand.  Mr.  Donald  M'Kenrie, 
another  partner,  was  associated  with  him.  He  had  been  ten 
years  in  the  interior,  in  the  service  of  the  North-west  Company, 
and  had  much  practical  experience  in  all  Indian  concerns.  In 


564  ASTORIA. 

July  1810,  the  two  gentlemen  repaired  to  Montreal,  where  every- 
thing requisite  to  the  expedition  could  be  procured.  Here  they 
met  with  many  difficulties — some  of  which  were  thrown  in  their 
\vay  by  their  rivals.  Having  succeeded,  however,  in  laying  in  a 
supply  of  ammunition,  provisions,  and  Indian  goods,  they  em- 
barked all  on  board  a  large  boat,  and,  with  a  very  inefficient 
crew,  the  best  to  be  procured,  took  their  departure  from  St. 
Ann's,  near  the  extremity  of  the  island  of  Montreal.  Their 
course  lay  up  the  Ottawa,  and  along  a  range  of  small  lakes  and 
rivers.  On  the  twenty-second  of  July,  they  arrived  at  Mackinaw, 
situated  on  Mackinaw  island,  at  the  continence  of  Lakes  Huron 
and  Michigan.  Here  it  was  necessary  to  remain  some  time  to 
complete  the  assortment  of  Indian  goods,  and  engage  more 
voyageurs.  While  waiting  to  accomplish  these  objects,  Mr.  Hunt 
was  joined  by  Mr.  Ramsay  Crooks,  a  gentleman  whom  he  had 
invited,  by  letter,  to  engage  as  a  partner  in  the  expedition.  He 
was  a  native  of  Scotland,  had  served  under  the  North-west  Com- 
pany, and  been  engaged  in  private  trading  adventures  among  the 
various  tribes  of  the  Missouri.  Mr.  Crooks  represented,  in  for- 
cible terms,  the  dangers  to  be  apprehended  from  the  Indians — 
especially  the  Blackfeet  and  Sioux — and  it  was  agreed  to  in- 
crease the  number  of  the  party  to  sixty  upon  arriving  at  St. 
Louis.  Thirty  was  its  strength  upon  leaving  Mackinaw.  This 
occurred  on  the  twelfth  of  August.  The  expedition  pursued  the 
usual  route  cf  the  fur-trader — by  Green  bay,  Fox  and  Wiscon- 
sin rivers,  to  Prairie  du  Chien,  and  thence  down  the  Mississippi 
to  St.  Louis,  where  they  landed  on  the  third  of  September. 
Here,  Mr.  Hunt  met  with  some  opposition  from  an  association 
called  the  Missouri  Fur  Company,  and  especially  from  its  leading 
partner,  a  Mr.  Manuel  Lisa.  This  company  had  a  capital  of 
about  forty  thousand  dollars,  and  employed  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  men.  Its  object  was  to  establish  posts  along  the  upper 
part  of  the  river,  and  monopolize  the  trade.  Mr.  H.  proceeded 
10  strengthen  himself  against  competition.  He  secured  to  Mr. 
Astor  the  services  of  Mr.  Joseph  Miller.  This  gentleman  had 
been  an  officer  of  the  United  States'  Army,  but  had  resigned  on 
being  refused  a  furlough,  and  taken  to  trading  with  the  Indians. 
He  joined  the  association  as  a  partner;  and,  on  account  of  hid 


ASTORIA.  565 

experience  and  general  acquirement?,  Mr.  Hunt  considered  him 
a  valuable  coadjutor.  Several  boatmen  and  hunters  were  also, 
now,  enlisted,  but  not  until  after  a  delay  of  several  weeks.  This 
de,ay,  and  the  previous  difficulties  at  Montreal  and  Mackinaw, 
had  thrown  Mr.  H.  much  behind  his  original  calculations,  so  that 
he  found  it  would  be  impossible  to  effect  his  voyage  up  the  Mis 
souri  during  the  present  season.  There  was  every  likelihood 
that  the  river  would  be  closed  before  the  party  could  reach  its 
upper  waters.  To  winter,  however,  at  St.  Louis,  would  be  ex- 
pensive. Mr.  H.,  therefore,  determined  to  push  ap  on  his  way 
as  far  as  possible,  to  some  point  where  game  might  be  found  iu 
abundance,  and  there  take  up  his  quarters  until  spring.  On  the 
twenty-first  of  October,  he  set  out.  The  party  were  distributed 
in  three  boats — two  large  Schenectady  barges,  and  a  keel  boat. 
By  the  sixteenth  of  November,  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
Nodowa,  a  distance  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  where  they 
set  up  their  winter  quarters.  Here,  Mr.  Robert  M'Lellan,  at 
the  invitation  of  Mr.  Hunt,  joined  the  association  as  a  partner. 
Pie  was  a  man  of  vigorous  frame,  of  restless  and  imperious  tem- 
per, and  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  partisan  under  General 
Wayne.  John  Day  also  joined  the  company  at  this  place — a  tall 
and  athletic  hunter  from  the  backwoods  of  Virginia.  Leaving 
the  main  body  at  Nodowa,  Mr.  Hunt  now  returned  to  St.  Louis 
for  a  reinforcement.  He  was  again  impeded  by  the  machinations 
of  the  Missouri  Fur  Company,  but  finally  succeeded  in  enlisting 
one  hunter,  some  voyageurs,  and  a  Sioux  interpreter,  Pierre 
Dorion.  With  these,  after  much  difficulty,  he  got  back  to  the 
encampment  on  the  seventeenth  of  April.  Soon  after  this  period, 
the  voyage  up  the  river  was  resumed.  The  party  now  consisted 
of  nearly  sixty  persons — five  partners,  Hunt,  Crooks,  M'Kenzie, 
Miller,  and  M'Lellan ;  one  clerk,  John  Reed ;  forty  Canadian 
voyayeurs  ;  and  several  hunters.  They  embarked  in  four  boats, 
one  of  which,  of  a  large  size,  mounted  a  swivel  and  two 
howitzers. 

We  do  not  intend,  of  course,  to  proceed  with  our  travellei-9 
throughout  the  vast  series  of  adventure  encountered  in  their  pas- 
sage through  the  wilderness.  To  the  curious  in  these  particulars, 
we  recommend  the  book  itself.  No  details  more  intensely  excit- 


566  ASTORIA. 

ing  are  to  be  found  in  any  work  of  travels  within  our  knowledge. 
At  times  full  of  life  and  enjoying  the  whole  luxury  to  be  found 
in  the  career  of  the  hunter — at  times  suffering  every  extremity 
of  fatigue,  hunger,  thirst,  anxiety,  terror,  and  despair — Mr.  Hunt 
still  persisted  in  hfs  journey,  and  finally  brought  it  to  a  success- 
ful termination.  A  bure  outline  of  the  route  pursued  is  all  we 
can  attempt. 

Proceeding  up  the  river,  our  party  arrived,  on  the  twenty- 
eighth  of  April,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Nebraska,  or  Platte,  the 
largest  tributary  of  the  Missouri,  and  about  six  hundred  miles 
above  its  junction  with  the  Mississippi.  They  now  halted  for 
two  days,  to  supply  themselves  with  oars  and  poles  from  the 
tough  wood  of  the  ash,  which  is  not  to  be  found  higher  up  the 
river.  Upon  the  second  of  May,  two  of  the  hunters  insisted 
upon  abandoning  the  expedition,  and  returning  to  St.  Louis.  On 
the  tenth,  the  party  reached  the  Omaha  village,  and  encamped  in 
its  vicinity.  This  village  is  about  eight  hundred  and  thirty 
miles  above  St.  Louis,  and  on  the  west  bank  of  the  stream. 
Three  men  here  deserted,  but  their  place  was  luckily  supplied  by 
three  others,  who  were  prevailed  upon,  by  liberal  promises,  to 
enlist.  On  the  fifteenth,  Mr.  Hunt  left  Omaha,  and  proceeded. 
Not  long  afterwards,  a  canoe  was  descried  navigated  by  two 
white  men.  They  proved  te  be  two  adventurers,  who,  for  some 
years  past,  had  been  hunting  and  trapping  near  the  head  of  the 
Missouri.  Their  names  were  Jones  and  Carson.  They  were 
now  on  their  way  to  St.  Louis,  but  readily  abandoned  their 
voyage,  and  turned  their  faces  again  toward  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. On  the  twenty-third,  Mr.  Hunt  received,  by  a  special 
messenger,  a  letter  from  Mr.  Manuel  Lisa,  the  leading  partner  of 
the  Missouri  Fur  Company,  and  the  gentleman  who  rendered 
him  so  many  disservices  at  St.  Louis.  He  had  left  that  place, 
with  a  large  party,  three  weeks  after  Mr.  IL,  and,  having  heard 
rumors  of  hostile  intentions  on  the  part  of  the  Sioux,  a  much 
dreaded  tribe  of  Indians,  made  great  exertions  to  overtake  him, 
that  they  might  pass  through  the  dangerous  part  of  the  river  to- 
gether. Mr.  H.,  however,  was  justly  suspicious  of  the  Spaniard, 
and  pushed  on.  At  the  village  of  the  Poncas,  about  a  league 
south  of  the  river  Quicourt,  he  stopped  only  long  enough  to 


ASTORIA.  567 

procure  a  supply  of  dried  buffalo  meat.  On  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-fifth,  it  was  discovered  that  Jones  and  Carson  had  desert- 
od.  They  were  pursued,  but  in  vain.  The  next  day,  three 
white  men  were  observed,  in  two  canoes,  descending  the  river. 
They  proved  to  be  three  Kentucky  hunters — Edward  Robinson, 
John  Hoback,  and  Jacob  Rizner.  They  also  had  passed  several 
years  in  the  upper  wilderness,  and  were  now  on  their  way  home, 
but  willingly  turned  back  with  the  expedition.  Information  de- 
rived from  these  recruits,  induced  Mr.  Hunt  to  alter  his  route. 
Hitherto,  he  had  intended  to  follow  the  course  pursued  by 
Messieurs  Lewis  and  Clarke — ascending  the  Missouri  to  its 
forks,  and  thence,  by  land,  across  the  mountains.  He  was  in- 
formed, however,  that,  in  so  doing,  he  would  have  to  pass  through 
the  country  of  the  Blackfeet,  a  savage  tribe  of  Indians,  exasperated 
against  the  whites,  on  account  of  the  death  of  one  of  their  men 
by  the  hands  of  Captain  Lewis.  Robinson  advised  a  more 
southerly  route.  This  would  carry  them  over  the  mountains 
about  where  the  head  waters  of  the  Platte  and  the  Yellowstone 
take  their  rise,  a  much  more  practicable  pass  than  that  of  Lewis 
and  Clarke.  To  this  counsel,  Mr.  Hunt  agreed,  and  resolved  to 
leave  the  Missouri  at  the  village  of  the  Arickaras,  at  which  they 
would  arrive  in  a  few  days.  On  the  first  of  June,  they  reached 
"  the  great  bend  "  of  the  river,  which  here  winds  for  about  thirty 
miles  round  a  circular  peninsula,  the  neck  of  which  is  not  above 
two  thousand  yards  across.  On  the  morning  of  June  the  third, 
the  party  were  overtaken  by  Lisa,  much  to  their  dissatisfaction. 
The  meeting  was,  of  course,  far  from  cordial,  but  an  outward  ap- 
pearance of  civility  was  maintained  for  two  days.  On  the  third, 
a  quarrel  took  place,  which  was  near  terminating  seriously.  It 
was,  however,  partially  adjusted,  and  the  rival  parties  coasted 
along  opposite  sides  of  the  river,  in  sight  of  each  other.  On  the 
twelfth  of  June,  they  reached  the  village  of  the  Arickaras,  be- 
tween the  forty-sixth  and  forty-seventh  parallels  of  north  latitude, 
and  about  fourteen  hundred  and  thirty  miles  above  the  mouth  of 
the  Missouri.  In  accomplishing  thus  much  of  his  journey,  Mr. 
Hunt  had  not  failed  to  meet  with  a  crowd  of  difficulties,  at  which 
we  have  not  even  hinted.  He  was  frequently  in  extreme  peril 
from  large  bodies  of  the  Sioux,  and,  at  one  time,  it  was  a  mere 


568  ASTORIA. 

accident  alone  which  prevented  the  massacre  of  the  whole 
party. 

At  the  Arickara  village,  our  adventurers  were  to  abandon 
their  boats,  and  proceed  westward  across  the  wilderness.  Horses 
were  to  be  purchased  from  the  Indians  ;  who  could  not,  however, 
furnish  them  in  sufficient  numbers.  In  this  dilemma,  Lisa  offered 
to  purchase  the  boats,  now  no  longer  of  use,  and  to  pay  for  them 
in  horses,  to  be  obtained  at  a  fort  belonging  to  the  Missouri  Fur 
Company,  and  situated  at  the  Mandan  villages,  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  further  up  the  river.  A  bargain  was  made,  and 
Messieurs  Lisa  and  Crooks  went  for  the  horses,  returning  with 
them  in  about  a  fortnight.  At  the  Arickara  village,  if  we  un- 
derstand, Mr.  Hunt  engaged  the  services  of  one  Edward  Rose. 
He  enlisted,  as  interpreter  when  the  expedition  should  reach  the 
country  of  the  Upsarokas  or  Crow  Indians,  among  whom  he  had 
formerly  resided.  On  the  eighteenth  of  July,  the  party  took  up 
their  line  of  march.  They  were  still  insufficiently  provided  with 
horses.  The  cavalcade  consisted  of  eighty-two,  most  of  them 
heavily  laden  with  Indian  goods,  beaver  traps,  ammunition,  and 
provisions.  Each  of  the  partners  was  mounted.  As  they  took 
leave  of  Arickara,  the  veterans  of  Lisa's  company,  as  well  as 
Lisa  himself,  predicted  the  total  destruction  of  our  adventurers. 
amid  the  innumerable  perils  of  the  wilderness. 

To  avoid  the  Blackfeet  Indians,  a  ferocious  and  implacable 
tribe,  of  which  we  have  before  spoken,  the  party  kept  a  south- 
western direction.  This  route  took  them  across  some  of  the 
tributary  streams  of  the  Missouri,  and  through  immense  prairies, 
bounded  only  by  the  horizon.  Their  progress  was,  at  first,  slow, 
and,  Mr.  Crooks  falling  sick,  it  was  necessary  to  make  a  litter 
for  him  between  two  horses.  On  the  twenty-third  of  the  month, 
they  encamped  on  the  banks  of  a  little  stream,  nicknamed  Big 
River,  where  they  remained  several  days,  meeting  with  a 
variety  of  adventures.  Among  other  things,  they  were  enabled 
to  complete  their  supply  of  horses  from  a  band  of  the  Cheyenne 
Indians.  On  the  sixth  of  August,  the  journey  was  resumed,  and 
they  soon  left  the  hostile  region  of  the  Sioux  behind  them. 
About  this  period,  a  plot  was  discovered  on  the  part  of  the  inter- 
preter, Edward  Rose.  This  villain  had  been  tampering  with  (he 


ASTORIA.  569 

men,  and  proposed,  upon  arriving  among  his  old  acquaintances 
the  Crows,  to  desert  to  the  savages  with  as  much  booty  as  could 
be  carried  off.  The  matter  was  adjusted,  however,  and  Mr 
Rose,  through  the  ingenuity  of  Mr.  Hunt,  quietly  dismissed.  On 
(he  thirteenth,  Mr.  H.  varied  his  course  to  the*westward,  a  route 
which  soon  brought  him  to  a  fork  of  the  Little  Missouri,  and 
upon  the  skirts  of  the  Black  Mountains.  These  are  an  extensive 
chain,  lying  about  a  hundred  miles  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
stretching  north-easterly  from  the  south  fork  of  the  river  Platte 
to  the  great  north  bent  of  the  Missouri,  and  dividing  the  waters 
of  the  Missouri  from  those  of  the  Mississippi  and  Arkansas.  The 
travellers  here  supposed  themselves  to  be  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  from  the  village  of  the  Arickaras.  Their  more  serious 
troubles  now  commenced.  Hunger  and  thirst,  with  the  minor 
difficulties  of  grizzly  bears,  beset  them  at  every  turn,  as  they 
attempted  to  force  a  passage  through  the  rugged  barriers  in  their 
path.  At  length,  they  emerged  upon  a  stream  of  clear  water, 
one  of  the  forks  of  Powder  river,  and  once  more  beheld  wide 
meadows  and  plenty  of  buffalo.  They  ascended  this  stream 
about  eighteen  miles,  directing  their  march  towards  a  lofty 
mountain,  which  had  been  in  sight  since  the  seventeenth.  They 
reached  the  base  of  this  mountain,  which  proved  to  be  a  spur  of 
the  Rocky  chain,  on  the  thirtieth,  having  now  come  about  four 
hundred  miles  since  leaving  Aricknra. 

For  one  or  two  days,  they  endeavored  in  vain  to  find  a  defile 
in  the  mountains.  On  the  third  of  September,  they  made  an 
attempt  to  force  a  passage  to  the  westward,  but  soon  become 
entangled  among  rocks  and  precipices,  which  set  all  their  efforts 
at  defiance.  They  were  now  too  in  the  region  of  the  terrible 
Upsarokas,  and  encountered  them  at  every  step.  They  met  also 
with  friendly  bands  of  Shoshonies  and  Flatheads.  After  a 
thousand  troubles,  they  made  some  way  upon  their  journey.  On 
the  ninth,  they  reached  Wind  river,  a  stream  which  gives  its 
name  to  a  range  of  mountains  consisting  of  three  parallel  chains, 
eighty  miles  long  and  about  twenty-five  broad.  "  One  of  its 
peaks,''  says  our  author,  "is  probably  fifteen  thousand  feet  above 
he  level  of  the  sea."  For  five  days,  Mr.  Hunt  followed  up  the 
:ourse  of  Wind  river,  crossing  and  recrossing  it.  He  had  been 


570  ASTORIA. 

assured  by  the  three  hunters  who  advised  Kim  to  strike  through 
the  wilderness,  that,  by  going  on  up  the  river,  and  crossing  a 
single  mountain  ridge,  he  would  come  upon  the  head  waters  of 
the  Columbia.  The  scarcity  of  game,  however,  determined  him 
to  pursue  a  different  course.  In  the  course  of  the  day,  after 
coming  to  this  resolve,  they  perceived  three  mountain  peaks, 
white  with  snow,  and  which  were  recognized  by  the  hunters  as 
rising  just  above  a  fork  of  the  Columbia.  These  peaks  were 
named  the  Pilot  Knobs  by  Mr.  Hunt.  The  travellers  continued 
their  course  for  about  forty  miles  to  the  south-west,  and,  at  length, 
found  a  river  flowing  to  the  west.  This  proved  to  be  a  branch 
of  the  Colorado.  They  followed  its  current  for  fifteen  miles.  On 
the  eighteenth,  abandoning  its  main  course,  they  took  a  north- 
westerly direction  for  eight  miles,  and  reached  one  of  its  little 
tributaries,  issuing  from  the  bosom  of  the  mountains,  and  running 
through  green  meadows  abounding  in  buffalo.  Here,  they  en- 
camped for  several  days,  a  little  repose  being  necessary  for  both 
men  and  horses.  On  the  twenty-fourth,  the  journey  was  resumed. 
Fifteen  miles  brought  them  to  a  stream  about  fifty  feet  wide, 
which  was  recognized  as  one  of  the  head  waters  of  the  Columbia. 
They  kept  along  it  for  two  days,  during  which  it  gradually 
swelled  into  a  river  of  some  size.  At  length,  it  was  joined  by 
another  current,  and  both  united  swept  off  in  an  unimpeded 
stream,  which,  from  its  rapidity  and  turbulence  had  received  the 
appellation  of  Mad  river.  Down  this,  they  anticipated  an  un- 
interrupted voyage,  in  canoes,  to  the  point  of  their  ultimate  des- 
tination— but  their  hopes  were  very  far  from  being  realized. 

The  partners  held  a  consultation.  The  three  hunters  who 
had  hitherto  acted  as  guides,  knew  nothing  of  the  region  to  the 
west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  It  was  doubtful  whether  Mad 
river  could  be  navigated,  and  they  could  hardly  resolve  to  aban- 
don their  horses  upon  an  uncertainty.  The  vote,  nevertheless, 
was  for  embarkation,  and  they  proceeded  to  build  the  necessary 
vessels.  In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Hunt,  having  now  reached  the 
head  waters  of  the  Columbia,  reputed  to  abound  in  beaver,  turn- 
ed his  thoughts  to  the  main  object  of  the  expedition.  Four  men, 
Alexander  Carson,  Louis  St.  Michel,  Pierre  Detaye,  and  Pierre 
Dehuu.ay,  were  detached  from  the  expedition,  to  remain  and 


ASTORIA.  571 

trap  beaver  by  themselves  in  the  wilderness.  Having  collected 
H  sufficient  quantity  of  peltries,  they  were  to  bring  them  to  the 
dtjpot,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  or  to  some  intermediate 
post  to  be  established  by  the  company.  These  trappers  had  just 
departed,  when  two  Snake  Indians  wandered  into  the  camp,  and 
declared  the  river  to  be  unnavigable.  Scouts  sent  out  by  Mr. 
Hunt  finally  confirmed  this  report.  On  the  fourth  of  October, 
therefcn'o,  the  encampment  was  broken  up,  and  the  party  pro- 
ceeded to  search  for  a  post  in  possession  of  the  Missouri  Fur 
Company,  and  said  to  be  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood,  upon 
the  banks  of  another  branch  of  the  Columbia.  This  post,  they 
found  without  much  difficulty.  It  was  deserted — and  our  tra- 
vellers gladly  took  possession  of  the  rude  buildings.  The  stream 
here  found,  was  upwards  of  a  hundred  yards  wide.  Canoes 
were  constructed  with  all  despatch.  In  the  meantime,  another 
detachment  of  trappers  was  cast  loose  in  the  wilderness.  These 
were  Robinson,  Rezner,  Hoback,  Carr,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Miller. 
This  latter,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  one  of  the  partners — he 
threw  up  his  share  in  the  expedition,  however,  for  a  life  of  more 
perilous  adventure.  On  the  eighteenth  of  the  month,  (October,) 
fifteen  canoes  being  completed,  the  voyagers  embarked,  leaving 
their  horses  in  charge  of  the  two  Snake  Indians,  who  were  still 
in  company. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  the  party  arrived  at  the  junction  of 
the  stream  upon  which  they  floated,  with  Mad  river.  Here, 
Snake  river  commences — the  scene  of  a  thousand  disasters.  After 
proceeding  about  four  hundred  miles,  by  means  of  frequent  por- 
tages, and  beset  with  innumerable  difficulties  of  every  kind,  the 
adventurers  were  brought  to  a  halt  by  a  series  of  frightful  ca 
taracts,  raging  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  between  stupendous 
ramparts  of  black  rock,  rising  more  than  two  hundred  feet  per- 
pendicularly. This  place,  they  called  "  The  Caldron  Linn." 
Here,  Antoine  Clappine,  one  of  the  voyageurs,  perished  amid  the 
whirlpools  three  of  the  canoes  stuck  immovably  among  the 
rocks,  and  one  was  swept  away  with  all  the  weapons  and  effects 
of  four  of  the  boatmen. 

The  situation  of  the  party  was  now  lamentable,  indeed — in  the 
heart  of  an   unknown  wilderness,  at  a  loss  what  routo  to  take. 


572  ASTORIA. 

ignorant  of  their  distance  from  the  place  of  llieir  destination,  and 
witli  no  human  being  near  them  from  whom  counsel  might  be 
taken.  Their  stock  of  provisions  was  reduced  to  five  days 
allowance,  and  famine  stared  them  in  the  face.  It  was,  therefore, 
more  perilous  to  keep  together  than  to  separate.  The  goods  and 
provisions,  except  a  small  supply  for  each  man,  were  concealed 
in  caches,  (holes  dug  in  the  earth,)  and  the  party  were  divided 
into  several  small  detachments,  which  started  off  in  different 
directions,  keeping  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  in  view  as  their 
ultimate  point  of  destination.  From  this  post,  they  were  still 
distant  nearly  a  thousand  miles,  although  this  fact  was  unknown 
to  them  at  the  time. 

On  the  twenty-first  of  January,  after  a  series  of  almost  in- 
credible adventures,  the  division  in  which  Mr.  Hunt  enrolled 
himself  struck  the  waters  of  the  Columbia,  some  distance  below 
the  junction  of  its  two  great  branches,  Lewis  and  Clarke  rivers, 
and  not  far  from  the  influx  of  the  Wallah- Wallah.  Since  leaving 
the  Caldron  Linn,  they  had  toiled  two  hundred  and  forty  miles, 
through  snowy  wastes  and  precipitous  mountains,  and  six  months 
had  now  elapsed  since  their  departure  from  the  Arickara  village, 
on  the  Missouri — their  whole  route  from  that  point,  according  to 
their  computation,  having  been  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty-one 
miles.  Some  vague  intelligence  was  now  received  in  regard  to 
the  other  divisions  of  the  party,  and  also  of  the  settlers  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Columbia.  On  the  thirty-first,  Mr.  Hunt  reached 
the  falls  of  the  river,  and  encamped  at  the  village  of  Wish-Ham. 
Here  were  heard  tidings  of  the  massacre  on  board  the  Tonquin. 
On  the  fifth  of  February,  having  procured  canoes  with  much 
difficulty,  the  adventurers  departed  from  Wish-Ram,  and,  on 
the  fifteenth,  sweeping  round  an  intervening  cape,  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  long-desired  Astoria.  Among  the  first  to  greet  them 
on  their  landing,  were  some  of  their  old  comrades,  who  had 
parted  from  them  at  the  Caldron  Linn,  and  who  had  reached  the 
settlement  nearly  a  month  before.  Mr.  Crooks  and  John  Day, 
being  unable  to  get  on,  had  been  left  with  some  Indians  in  the 
wilderness — they  afterwards  came  in.  Carriere,  a  voyageur, 
who  was  also  j  bandoned  through  the  sternest  necessity,  \vaa 
never  heard  of  more.  Jean  Babtiste  Prevost,  likewise  a  voya- 


ASTORIA.  573 

geur,  rendered  frantic  by  famine,  had  been  drowned  in  the  Snake; 
river.  All  parties  had  suffered  the  extremes  of  weariness, 
privation  and  peril.  They  had  travelled  from  St.  Louis,  thirty- 
five  hundred  miles.  Let  us  now  return  to  Mr.  Astor. 

As  yet  he  had  received  no  intelligence  from  the  Columbia, 
and  had  to  proceed  upon  the  supposition  that  all  had  gone  as  he 
desired.  He  accordingly  fitted  out  a  fine  ship,  the  Beaver,  of 
four  hundred  and  ninety  tons.  Her  cargo  was  assorted  with  a 
view  to  the  supply  of  Astoria,  the  trade  along  the  coast,  and  the 
wants  of  the  Russian  Fur  Company.  There  embarked  in  her. 
for  the  settlement,  a  partner,  five  clerks,  fifteen  American  la- 
borers, and  six  Canadian  voyageurs.  Mr.  John  Clarke,  the 
partner,  was  a  native  of  the  United  States,  although  he  had 
passed  much  of  his  life  in  the  North-west,  having  been  employed 
in  tlie  fur  trade  since  the  age  of  sixteen.  The  clerks  were, 
chiefly,  young  American  gentlemen  of  good  connexions.  Mr. 
Astor  had  selected  this  reinforcement  with  the  design  of  securing 
an  ascendancy  of  American  influence  at  Astoria,  and  rendering 
the  association  decidedly  national.  This,  from  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  he  had  been  unable  to  do  in  the  com- 
mencement of  his  undertaking. 

Captain  Sowle,  the  commander  of  the  Beaver,  was  directed  to 
touch  at  the  Sandwich  islands,  to  inquire  about  the  fortunes  of 
the  Tonquin,  and  ascertain,  if  possible,  whether  the  settlement 
had  been  effected  at  Astoria.  If  so,  he  was  to  enlist  as  many  of 
the  natives  as  possible  and  proceed.  He  was  to  use  great  caution 
in  his  approach  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia.  If  everything 
was  found  right,  however,  he  was  to  land  such  part  of  his  cargo 
as  was  intended  for  the  post,  and  to  sail  for  New  Archangel  with 
the  Russian  supplies.  Having  received  furs  in  payment,  he 
would  return  to  Astoria,  take  in  the  peltries  there  collected,  and 
make  the  best  of  his  way  to  Canton.  These  were  the  strict 
letter  of  his  instructions — a  deviation  from  which  was  subse- 
quently the  cause  of  great  embarrassment  and  loss,  and  contri- 
buted largely  to  the  failure  of  the  whole  enterprise.  The  Beaver 
sailed  on  the  tenth  of  October,  1811,  and,  after  taking  in  twelve 
natives  at  the  Sandwich  islands,  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Co- 
lumbia, in  safety,  on  the  ninth  of  May,  1812.  Her  arrival  gave 


574  ASTORIA. 

life  and  vigor  to  the  establishment,  and  afforded  means  of  ox- 
tending  the  operations  of  the  company,  and  founding  a  number 
of  interior  trading  posts. 

Tt  now  became  necessary  to  send  despatches  over  land  to  Mr 
Astor,  at  New  York,  an  attempt  at  so  doing  having  been  frus- 
trated some  time  before  by  the  hostility  of  the  Indians  at  Wish- 
Ram.  The  task  was  confided  to  M.  Robert  Stuart,  who,  though 
he  had  never  been  across  the  mountains,  had  given  evidence  of 
his  competency  for  such  undertakings.  He  was  accompanied  by 
Ben.  Jones  and  John  Day,  Kentuckians;  Andri  Vallar  and 
Francis  Le  Clerc,  Canadians ;  and  two  of  the  partners,  Messieurs 
M'Lellan  and  Crooks,  who  were  desirous  of  returning  to  the 
Atlantic  States.  This  little  party  set  out  on  the  twenty-ninth  of 
June,  and  Mr.  Irving  accompanies  them,  in  detail,  throughout 
the  whole  of  their  long  and  dangerous  wayfaring.  As  might  be 
expected,  they  encountered  mistortunes  still  more  terrible  than 
those  before  experienced  by  Mr.  Hunt  and  his  associates.  The 
chief  features  of  the  journey  were  the  illness  of  Mr.  Crooks,  and 
the  loss  of  all  the  horses  of  the  party  through  the  villany  of  the 
Upsarokas.  This  latter  circumstance  was  the  cause  of  excessive 
trouble  and  great  delay.  On  the  thirtieth  of  April,  however, 
the  party  arrived,  in  fine  health  and  spirits,  at  St.  Louis,  having 
been  ten  months  in  performing  their  perilous  expedition.  The 
route  taken  by  Mr.  Stuart  coincided  nearly  with  that  of  Mr. 
Hunt,  as  far  as  the  Wind  river  mountains.  From  this  point,  the 
former  struck  somewhat  to  the  south-east,  following  the  Nebraska 
to  its  junction  with  the  Missouri. 

War  having  at  length  broken  out  between  the  United  States 
and  England,  Mr.  Astor  perceived  that  the  harbor  of  New  York 
would  be  blockaded,  and  the  departure  of  the  annual  supply  ship 
in  the  autumn  prevented.  In  this  emergency,  he  wrote  to 
Captain  Sowle,  the  commander  of  the  Beaver,  addressing  him  at 
Canton.  The  letter  directed  him  to  proceed  to  the  factory,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  with  such  articles  as  the  establish- 
ment might  need,  and  to  remain  there  subject  to  the  orders  of 
Mr.  Hunt.  In  the  meantime,  nothing  had  yet  been  heard  from 
the  settlement.  Still,  not  discouraged,  Mr.  A.  determined  to 
send  out  another  ship,  although  the  risk  of  loss  was  so  greatlv 


ASTORIA.  575 

enhanced  that  no  insurance  could  be  effected.  The  Lark  was 
chosen — remarkable  for  her  fast  sailing.  She  put  to  sea  on 
the  sixth  of  March,  1813,  under  the  command  of  Mr.  Northrop, 
her  mate — the  officer  first  appointed  to  command  her  having 
shrunk  from  his  engagement.  Within  a  fortnight  after  her  de- 
parture, Mr.  A.  received  intelligence  that  the  North-west  Com- 
pany had  presented  a  memorial  to  Great  Britain,  stating  the 
vast  scope  of  the  contemplated  operations  at  Astoria,  expressing 
a  fear  that,  unless  crushed,  the  settlement  there  would  effect  the 
downfall  of  their  own  fur  trade,  and  advising  that  a  force  be  sent 
against  the  colony.  In  consequence,  the  frigate  Phrebe  was  or- 
dered to  convoy  the  armed  ship  Isaac  Todd,  belonging  to  the 
North-west  company,  and  provided  with  men  and  munitions  for 
the  formation  of  a  new  establishment.  They  were  directed  "  to 
proceed  together  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  capture  or  des- 
troy whatever  American  fortress  thej  would  find  there,  and 
plant  the  British  flag  on  its  ruins."  Upon  this  matter's  being 
represented  to  our  government,  the  frigate  Adams,  Captain 
Crane,  was  detailed  for  the  protection  of  Astoria ;  and  Mr.  A. 
proceeded  to  fit  out  a  ship  called  the  Enterprise,  to  sail  in  com- 
pany with  the  frigate,  and  freighted  with  additional  supplies. 
Just,  however,  as  the  two  vessels  were  ready,  a  reinforcement  of 
seamen  was  wanted  for  Lake  Ontario,  and  the  crew  oi  the 
Adams  were,  necessarily,  transferred  to  that  service.  Mr.  A. 
was  about  to  send  off  his  ship  alone,  when  a  British  force  made 
its  appearance  off  the  Hook,  and  New  York  was  effectually 
blockaded.  The  Enterprise,  therefore,  was  unloaded  arid  dis- 
mantled. We  now  return  to  the  Beaver. 

This  vessel,  after  leaving  at  Astoria  that  portion  of  her  cargo 
destined  for  that  post,  sailed  for  New  Archangel  on  the  fourth  of 
August,  1812.  She  arrived  there  on  the  nineteenth,  meeting 
with  no  incidents  of  moment.  A  long  time  was  now  expended 
in  negotiations  with  the  drunken  governor  of  the  Russian  fur 
colony — one  Count  Baranoff — and  when  they  were  finally  com- 
pleted, the  month  of  October  had  arrived.  Moreover,  in  pay- 
ment for  his  supplies,  Mr.  Hunt  was  to  receive  seal-skins,  and 
none  were  on  the  spot.  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  to  proceed 
to  a  seal-catching  establishment  belonging  to  the  Russian  com 


57G  ASTORIA. 

pany  at  the  Island  of  St.  Paul,  in  the  sea  of  Kamschatka.  Tie 
set  sail  for  this  place  on  the  fourth  of  October,  after  having  wasted 
Ibrty-five  days  at  New  Archangel.  He  arrived  on  the  thirty- 
first  of  the  month — by  which  time,  according  to  his  arrangement, 
he  should  have  been  back  at  Astoria.  Now  occurred  great  delay 
in  getting  the  peltries  on  board ;  every  pack  being  overhauled  to 
prevent  imposition.  To  make  matters  worse,  the  Beaver  one 
night  was  driven  offshore  in  a  gale,  and  could  not  get  back  until 
the  thirteenth  of  November.  Having  at  length  taken  in  the 
cargo  and  put  to  sea,  Mr.  Hunt  was  in  some  perplexity  as  to  his 
course.  The  ship  had  been  much  injured  in  the  late  gale,  and 
he  thought  it  imprudent  to  attempt  making  the  mouth  of  the 
Columbia  in  this  boisterous  time  of  the  year.  Moreover,  the 
season  was  already  much  advanced ;  and  should  he  proceed  to 
Astoria  as  originally  intended,  he  might  arrive  at  Canton  so  late 
as  to  find  a  bad  market.  Unfortunately,  therefore,  he  deter • 
mined  to  go  at  once  to  the  Sandwich  Islands,  there  await  the 
arrival  of  the  annual  ship  from  New  York,  take  passage  in  her 
to  the  settlement,  and  let  the  Beaver  proceed  on  her  voyage  to 
China.  It  is  but  justice  to  add  that  he  was  mainly  induced  to 
this  course  by  the  timid  representations  of  Captain  Sowle.  They 
reached  Woahoo  in  safety,  where  the  ship  underwent  the  neces- 
sary repairs,  and  again  put  to  sea  on  the  first  of  January,  1813, 
leaving  Mr.  Hunt  on  the  Island. 

At  Canton,  Captain  Sowle  found  the  letter  of  Mr.  Astor,  giv-1 
ing  him  information  of  the  war,  and  directing  him  to  convey  the 
intelligence  to  Astoria.  He  wrote  a  reply,  in  which  he  declined 
complying  with  these  orders,  saying  that  he  would  wait  for  peace, 
nnd  then  return  home.  In  the  meantime  Mr.  Hunt  waited  in 
vain  for  the  annual  vessel.  At  length,  about  the  twentieth  of 
June,  the  ship  Albatross,  Captain  Smith,  arrived  from  China, 
bringing  the  first  news  of  the  war  to  the  Sandwich  Islands. 
This  ship  Mr.  II.  chartered  for  two  thousand  dollars,  to  land; 
him,  with  some  supplies,  at  Astoria.  lie  reached  this  post  on: 
the  twentieth  of  August,  where  he  found  the  affairs  of  the  com- 
pany in  .1  perishing  condition,  and  the  partners  bent  upon  aban- 
doning the  settlement.  To  this  resolution  Mr.  Hunt  was  finally 
br.mght  to  consent.  There  was  a  lartre  stock  of  furs,  however, 


ASTORIA.  577 

at  the  factory,  which  it  was  necessary  to  get  to  a  market,  and  a 
ship  was  required  for  this  service.  The  Albatross  was  bound  to 
the  Marquesas,  and  thence  to  the  Sandwich  Islands ;  and  it  was 
received  that  Mr.  H.  should  sail  in  her  in  quest  of  a  vessel,  re- 
turning, if  possible,  by  the  first  of  January,  and  bringing  with 
him  a  supply  of  provisions.  He  departed  on  the  twenty-sixth 
of  August,  and  reached  the  Marquesas  without  accident.  Commo- 
dore Porter  soon  afterward  arrived,  bringing  intelligence  that  the 
British  frigate  Phoebe,  with  a  store-ship  mounted  with  battering 
pieces,  together  with  the  sloops  of  war  Cherub  and  Racoon,  had 
all  sailed,  from  Rio  Janiero,  on  the  sixth  of  July,  bound  for  the 
mouth  of  the  Columbia.  Mr.  H.,  after  in  vain  attempting  to 
purchase  a  whale  ship  from  Commodore  Porter,  started,  on  the 
twenty-third  of  November,  for  the  Sandwich  Islands,  arriving 
on  December  the  twentieth.  Here  he  found  Captain  Northrop, 
of  the  Lark,  which  had  suffered  shipwreck  on  the  coast  about 
the  middle  of  March.  The  brig  Pedlar  was  now  purchased  for 
ten  thousand  dollars,  and,  Captain  N.  being  put  in  command  ot 
her,  Mr.  H.  sailed  for  Astoria  on  the  twenty-second  of  January, 
1814,  with  the  view  of  removing  the  property  there,  as  speedily 
as  possible,  to  the  Russian  settlements  in  the  vicinity — these  were 
Mr.  Astor's  orders  sent  out  by  the  Lark.  On  the  twenty-eighth 
of  February  the  brig  anchored  in  the  Columbia,  when  it  was 
found  that,  on  the  twelfth  of  December,  the  British  had  taken 
possession  of  the  post.  In  some  negotiations  carried  on,  just  be- 
fore the  surrender,  on  the  part  of  the  North-west  company  and 
M'Dougal,  that  worthy  personage  gave  full  evidence  that  Cap- 
tain Thorn  was  not  far  wrong  in  suspecting  him  to  be  no  better 
than  he  should  be.  He  had  been  for  some  time,  secretly  a  part- 
ner of  the  rival  association,  and  shortly  before  the  arrival  of  the 
British,  took  advantage  of  his  situation  as  head  of  the  post,  to 
barter  away  the  property  of  the  company  at  less  than  one-third 
of  its  value. 

Thus  failed  this  great  enterprise  of  Mr.  Astor.  At  the  peace. 
Astoria  itself,  by  the  treaty  of  Ghent,  reverted  with  the  adjacent 
country  to  the  United  States,  on  the  principle  of  status  ante 
helium.  In  the  winter  of  1815,  Congress  passed  a  law  prohibit- 
ing all  traffic  of  British  traders  within  our  territories,  and  Mr 


578  ASTORIA. 

A.  felt  anxious  to  seize  this  opportunity  for  the  renewal  ofliis 
undertaking.  For  good  reasons,  however,  he  could  do  nothing 
without  the  direct  protection  of  the  government.  This  evincod 
much  supineness  in  the  matter ;  the  favorable  moment  was  suf- 
fered to  pass  unimproved;  and,  in  despite  of  the  prohibition  of 
Congress,  the  British  finally  usurped  the  lucrative  traffic  in  pel- 
tries throughout  the  whole  of  our  vast  territories  in  the  North* 
west.  A  very  little  aid  from  the  sources  whence  he  had  natu- 
rally a  right  to  expect  it,  would  have  enabled  Mr.  Astor  to  direct 
this  profitable  commerce  into  national  channels,  and  to  render 
New  York,  what  London  has  now  long  been,  the  great  emporium 
for  furs. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  masterly  manner  in  which 
Mr.  Irving  has  executed  his  task.  It  occurs  to  us  that  we  have 
observed  one  or  two  slight  discrepancies  in  the  narrative.  There 
appears  to  be  some  confusion  between  the  names  of  M'Lellan, 
M'Lennon  and  M'Lennan — or  do  these  three  appellations  refer 
to  the  same  individual?  In  going  up  the  Missouri,  Mr.  Hunt 
arrives  at  the  Great  Bend  on  the  first  of  June, — the  third  day 
after  which  (the  day  on  which  the  party  is  overtaken  by  Lisa)  is 
said  to  be  the  third  of  July.  Jones  and  Carson  join  the  expedi- 
tion just  above  the  Omaha  village.  At  page  187,  vol.  1,  we  are 
told  that  the  two  men  "  who  had  joined  the  company  at  the  Maha 
village"  (meaning  Omaha,  we  presume),  deserted  and  were  pur- 
sued, but  never  overtaken — at  page  199,  however,  Carson  is 
recognized  by  an  Indian  who  is  holding  a  parley  with  the  party. 
The  Lark  too,  only  sailed  from  New  York  on  the  sixth  of  March, 
1813,  and  on  the  tenth,  we  find  her,  much  buffeted,  somewhere 
in  the  near  vicinity  of  the  Sandwich  Islands.  These  errors  are 
of  little  importance  in  themselves,  but  may  as  well  be  rectified 
in  a  future  edition. 


THE     END. 


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